Mini Hammer
by Red Mage Neko
Summary: What would happen if all those badass Space Marines, Orks, every army of Warhammer 40K ... was only as big as they are in the tabletop? This story explores this question. Hilarity will ensue. Blood will ensue. Great Heresy will ensue. ... Just as planned.
1. GrimDark Time

I can't claim the credit for this idea, as it is something I discovered by pure chance on the internet in a 4chan thread. Others writing did far more credit to the idea then mine, but I felt the need to attempt my own.

The idea itself is simple. What if Warhammer 40K characters appeared in our world, but were only as big as their minature models? Infantry was an inch tall, tanks about the size of a book, even the largest of Titans only the size of a van.

I chose some of the more "human" armies to do this with. Sorry Tyranid and Necron fans, none here. ... Yet. Who knows what the future brings? Both armies work best when they have the "OH FUCK!" factor in their favor. Also, no Dark Eldar. Sorry, but I can't get my mind into writing them. Again, yet.

As for Chaos .... sorry, but I only plan the Thousand Sons and Tzeentch. Couple of reasons for this. One, it means I only have to write for Ahriman. Makes my life easier. Two, it was either them, the guys who would try to RAPE anything that moves, the ones who would give me an STD just from looking at them, or the ones who would try to cut off my toes for the Blood God.

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Humming to myself, backpack slung over one shoulder, I fumbled in my pocket for my keys, a grin plastered across my features. The place to myself, some new books, and a credit card. What more did a humble nerd need? ... Besides a girlfriend of course.

Shrugging off thoughts of my non existant love life, I felt the lock click, pushing the door open as I whistled softly. And like a bat out of hell came Bandit, the Malamute that had been my constant companion and buddy for three years. Darting through my legs, nearly bowling me over, he darted off into the bushes, ducking out of sight as I cursed after him.

"Goddamn dog! What did you do now!?"

Sighing, expecting the dog had made a mess of the living room or something and knowing he was about to get punished, I glared at the dog cowering in the bushes before shutting the door. He would start whining when he wanted back in, THEN he would get punished.

This first thing that hit me was the faint scent of smoke. Cursing, I quickly tossed my bookbag down, rushing into the living room. Shit, had someone knocked over those stupid candles my mom refused to get rid of!?

Now, a fire I could have dealt with. The smoke smell wasn't that bad, so it would probably just leave a bit of scorching and get me a nice, loud bitching session from my mom thanks to HER candles. Nothing I wasn't use to, nothing I couldn't handle.

What I FOUND was infinetly weirder.

There, right under my coffee table, were a bunch of inch high chicks in black and red armor, surrounded by vehicles gilted in gold with the same color scheme that didn't look much bigger then one of my paperbacks, each one garish, each one sporting some sort of weapon, be it a rather large gun or even larger flame throwers. They had formed up a semicircle around one of the table legs, vehicles set up around them in a manner much like the way wagons would circle in the days of the Wild West against indian attacks with the armor chicks ducking behind them, firing out with guns and, for some crazy ass reason, more flame throwers. Apparently I had a bunch of mini-pyro's in my living room.

What was worse were the thousands of green, equally tiny monsters around them. While bigger then the chicks and what would likely be bulging with muscles if they were my size (And probably making my crap my pants that this moment). Where the chicks had a uniform look to them, the green bastards were wearing anything and everything they could get their hands on it seems. Some were running around with little more then a loincloth and a tiny axe, others were practically PLATED in metal with a gun as big as one of the smaller greenies. Each had a look of brutal simplicity and stupidity about it ... and each one was screaming at the top of its lungs a cry of "WAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!". They also had vehicles with them (Albeit it ones that looked like someone had dug through a trash bin, grabbed anything vaguely shiny, welded it together, and duck taped guns to it), rushing forward to get belted with bullets and fire from the chicks, running over their own in the process in a rush to get closer.

Now, I can handle a lot of things I like to think. Little truly suprises me anymore. But I don't think I can truly be blaimed for standing their, dumbfounded at the sight before me. How often does one see inch high people trying to kill eachother in the middle of your living room?

And so, I reacted like any sane person would in this situation.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?"

At once, all the fighting stopped, a thousand tiny heads shooting up to look at me. The chicks went dead silent, each one staring at me in fear and (god I hope I'm wrong about this) awe. The green ones .... well, they stared to, but each one stared almost slack jawed, muttering and shoving eachother.

And (to this moment, I still don't know what possesed this little bastard to try it), rushing out of this mass of green came the biggest of them, probably a good head and a half taller then all the others, covered in metal, little heads stuck on poles on its back, screaming "WAAAAAARGH!" and shooting at me. Now, judging from the marks and burns all over the floor around the chicks, these guys can't aim worth crap. Neither could this one it seems. But when your shooting at something that, to you, is the size of the Empire State Building, its kind of hard to miss.

And it fucking STUNG!

Jumping back when I felt a dozen bee stings on my chest, I heard a cry of "WAAAARGH!" get taken up by the other greenies, rushing forward in a tide, shooting at me wildly. And with them running at me, the chicks start shooting into their backs, screaming something along the lines of "FOR THEY EMPEROR!".

Now, needless to say, I was getting more confused by the second ... and more pissed off with each moment. I come home, expecting a nice quiet evening with some pizza and a good book, and what do I get? Shot at by a freaking inch high green army man! Well I wasn't going to take this shit anymore!

Raising my foot as the big one and its buddies got closer, screaming their warcry, I glared at the apparent leader as he said "Gorgutz gonna need a BIG pointy stick for ur ead!"

Dropping my foot down, I crunched him and about ten of his little buddies into the carpet with one heavy stomp.

Almost at once, the rest of the greenies stopped, looking up at me in horror, as if just realizing they were fighting something fifty times their size. But now I was pissed and I wasn't stopping. Stomping forward, I crushed more of the green scum suckers into the carpet, walking through them quite literally and leaving quite the trail in my wake.

Almost at once they turned and bolted, scattering out in the hallway, under any furniture they could find, behind the entertainment center, the bookcase, anywhere they could fit into. Tiny they may be, but the little fuckers were FAST. A cheer went up amongst the chicks, what sounded like hymns and prayers being sung as they raised flamerthrowers, guns, and ... oh please tell me those weren't tiny chainsaw swords.

Lifting up one of my tennis shoes, I scowled at them, brushing off tiny greenie bits (surprisingly? Not nearly as much blood as you'd expect. I could probably clean this mess up with the vaccum cleaner and a bit of carpet cleaner) as one of the chicks wearing somewhat gaudier and more ... flamey armor stepped forward, dropping to her knees and speaking in a soft voice I couldn't pick up over the sound of the others chanting.

Cursing, confused and annoyed beyond belief, I bent down, reaching out and scooping the armored chick up, much to the gasp and cries of her follows as I stood back up, holding her at face level.

Surprisingly, she seemed incredibly calm being in the grip of a hand that could probably snap her spine with a muscle twitch, looking up at me. In truth, she was an attractive woman, with a classical beauty about her and sharp eyes under a fringe of feathered white hair. A shame she was only the size of one of my fingers.

.... Christ that was sad. Finding a tiny girl attractive. I needed a girl BAD.

"Who. The. Hell. Are you people? And why are you trying to set my carpet on fire?"

Again, she was surprisingly calm for her position. I know if our roles were reversed I'd probably be crapping my pants at this moment. When she spoke, it was softly, yet her words carried easily on the air.

"Beneficent one, we merely wished to cleanse the xeno taint from your realm. _"Suffer Not They Alien"_ (I swear I could hear her capitalize each word.) That is what you have taught us oh Emperor."

Emperor? Now what was THIS crap? "Look, I think you have me confused with someone else. There's no-"

"There is no mistake Oh Great God Emperor. (She was doing it again) _"And His Fury Shall Fall Upon The Land And Woe To The Enemies Of Man"_. There is no doubt that you are our Immortal Emperor, returned to us once more."

Sighing in frustration, raising my free hand to rub my temples, I closed my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. "And WHO are "us"?"

I felt the woman straightened and opened my hand, turning it so she could stand on my palm as I cracked my eyes open again to look at her. "We are the Sisters of Battle my lord, of they Order of Our Martyred Lady. We are yours to command."

"And your friends?"

A scowl pulled at the womans lips as she fingered a tiny, ornate pistol at her side, though for her it was bigger then any handgun I'd ever seen. The recoil could probably break your wrist on that beast. "Orks. Foul xeno scum. Fear not my lord, for we shall hunt them down and purge them all in your name!"

"No! No more goddamn flamethrowers in my house!" Tiny they may be, but I didn't want these pyro bitches setting my books on fire.

The woman flinched in my hand and I realized I must have come close to deafening the poor thing with her so small and this close. But she recovered quickly, looking up at me. "But My Lord, these xeno's-"

Shaking my head, I scowled. "Look, I'll handle the little rat bastards."

For a moment, the woman seemed torn between sorrow that she wasn't going to get to shoot more of the little things and eleation, like I had just made some great promise. "Then what shall we do my lord?"

For a moment, I was scared to ask. I KNEW I was going to regret this. But it had to be done. "Exactly ... how many more of you are there?"

"We have seen members of they Imperial Guard, Adeptus Mechanicus, and Raven Guard Space Marines within this sector, along with the foul forces of Chaos, along with other foul Xenos sullying your holy Empire."

All of this names meant nothing to me, but judging from what the chick said there were a LOT more of these little bastards running around my house. No wonder poor Bandit had been freaking out. Kneeling down, I sat her down gently, frowning. "Alright. Find the leaders ... ummm ...."

"Canoness Teresa My Lord."

"Teresa, sorry. Find the leaders and bring them here. NO KILLING ANYONE, GOT IT!?"

The woman bowed her head, rushing off to the others and giving out a flurry of orders. Sighing in frustration, I turned and went to the couch, falling down on it with a heavy thud, watching the greenies, Orks, run scurrying out from under it, either yelling or screaming "WAAARGH!" and trying to shot me. After swatting a few of the ones shooting at me, I grabbed one running, hearing it yelp as I picked it up and held it to eye level, its arms trapped at its side. It was straining and pretty strong for a little guy, but I kept it crushed in my hand.

"And you boys. Stop shooting at me or I'm going to start popping off heads."

"OY! PUT MEH DOWN YA PINKEH GIT!"

Thwacking it the face with my finger, I scowled. "Shut up."

Its answer was to howl and try to bite at me, earning another thwack in the face. After about three minutes and spitting out half a dozen teeth, it shut up, blood streaming from a broken nose. "Your in my house tiny. I'm the boss, you got it?"

The orc glared, but when I raised my finger menicingly it snapped its mouth shut, nodding quickly. "Oy! Youz da boss youz iz! Da biggest Warboss der iz!"

".... I'm glad we can agree." Dropping the thing back down at the carpet, I glared at it. "Now, tell your little buddies I hear one more of you little idiots shooting I'm going to introduce you to the lawn mower, got it?"

Now, I'm pretty sure the stupid thing had no idea what a Lawn Mower was, but the intent was clear enough. It quickly ran off, smacking smaller Orks upside the head and barking out half intelligble orders. Laying back, I closed my eyes with a sigh, reaching up to rub them again.

So much for relaxing.

(**)

I had just started to slip into a sort of quiet calm when I heard a soft cough from the coffee table. Cracking open my eyes, I turned my head slowly, looking towards it.

They had all divided themselves into little groups. The Canoness, Teresa, was standing with two of her fellow sisters, bowing when I looked at them. Next to them, nervously toying with a gauntlet with a pair of claws ala Wolverine was a man with a face lined with scars and the beginings of age, wearing a uniform covered with enough braid and medals to add fifteen pounds at least to him. Standing next to him was a man in a slightly less gaudy uniform with far more scars and a glare he was shooting off to the other groups that told me he was itching to grab that tiny pistol of his and start shooting, including the one standing next to HIM, a guy in simple robes, wearing a full face helmet and twitching from time to time like he was having a mild seizure, clutching tight to a staff as tall as he was even if he wasn't hunched over.

Slightly seperate but still marked as part of the same group was one decidely less human, a mix of men wearing robes and looking some the spawn of someone's ill concived fornification with a toaster, their bodies a mass of flesh and machine that must have been HELL to have put on. Each one was wearing red robes, each carrying a symbol of a skull and cog on them. These boys didn't even seem to blink, just eyeing me with red lenses and a gaze that left me feeling like they were trying to pick me apart with their eyes

Again slightly seperate were two men wearing heavy armor similar to the sisters, though much larger, stood with arms folded across their chest, their armor a midnight black with a white eagle on the shoulder guard. One was wearing a large backpack (that if I had to bet money was some sort of jet pack), with the other holding a banner aloft with the same design as the shoulder guards. The THIRD with them however was the strangest and what I could only describe as a metal box with stubby legs and arms that looked like it could be tipped over with a strong breeze (but I would bet testing this theroy was a bad idea). They to, didn't seem afraid, but were however ready, ready to fight or run the moment things got ugly.

And judging from the way that entire section was glaring at everyone else, I feared it might.

My little "buddies" the Orks were shoving and growling at eachother, the one I had smacked around earlier glaring at the others and brandashing a hammer with a head bigger then both their's (though about the size of a quarter to me). When he noticed me looking at him, he instantly shut up, as if expecting me to squash him to a pulp like his buddies earlier. It was still an option.

Sitting at the edge of the table, a spear resting across her lap, was a lithe figure of somewhat human proportions, all be it finer boned and of slighter frame. A conical helm rested by her side, a face both beautiful and alien gazing back at him. Again, I felt like I was being picked apart, that my every action was being judged and scrutinized. Next to her stood two obvious males of the species, one in dark robes and with a fearsome mask, the other with a heavy hood and a long rifle.

Not far from them, standing around the TV remote, was a man in some sort of mecha suit, testing and retesting a long barreled gattling weapon on its arm. Next to him stood a pale blue alien with a noseless face and a large staff, a rather ugly looking creature with a beak and quills holding a weapon that looked equal parts rifle and club on the other side.

The last group was perhaps the one that creeped me out the most. The apparent leader of this little group stood clutching a staff (Apparently everyone liked to have things besides guns except for mech boy), clad in blue armor like the other armor boys or the Sisters, though his helmet adding a good foot to his height. Despite the stupidity of his looks, I felt a shiver run up my spine looking at this guy, like he was smirking at me under that stupid helmet. The two silent men clad in similar armor next to him, holding guns and standing completly motionless only left me more uneasy.

Shaking it off, I scowled. Yeah, they were all packing, but I was still bigger then all of them put together. Worst came to worst, they would splat just like the Orks.

It was the Canoness that spoke first, her voice again soft. "Oh Benevolent Emperor, I have done as you have asked of me, though it brings me great shame to deal with the foul xenos and ...." A scowl was shot at the blue boys. "Heretics ..."

A silent rumble of agreement went up amongst the humans. Clearly they had a special place in their heart for Blue Boy, who didn't even flinch. Ignoring it, I pointed at the Army Boy first. "You. Name."

The soldier stiffened, fists twitching before standing straight. "General Vance Stubbs, 253rd Kaurava Regiment."

My finger switched to the metal heads. "You?"

"Magos Zeno Callonus of they Adeptus Mechanicus." The voice that came out from under that hood was flat, without tone or inflection, utterly mechanical.

My finger again jumped, this time to Armor Boy. "And you?"

"Kayvaan Shrike, Raven Guard." This one had no fear, no nerves in his voice, but it was different from Geller's. It wasn't cold, lifeless. Ice in his veins this one.

My finger darted to my little buddy next and I watched it flinch with a bit of amusement. "And you? Got a name smiley?"

The Ork glared, but my answering glare kept it from doing something to stupid. "Gorkip Skargrim Warboss!"

Again my finger switched, this time to the Elf Chick. "You?"

The Elf smiled enigmatically. "Farseer Macha, of the Biel-Tan Craftword. And before you ask, I am Eldar mon-keigh."

Now feeling a bit creeped out, I looked to the Mecha boys, pointing to the armored one. "And what's your name shiney?"

The blue one was the one that stepped forward, looking up at me. "My name is Shi'Ores great one, of the Tau cept." He gestured to one packing heat. "This is Shas'O Kais." He gestured to the spikey one next. "And Shaper Gorok."

Shaking my head, I finally pointed to blue boy. "And you?"

Again, I got the impression of someone smirking under that absurd helmet. "Ahriman. Of the Thousand Sons my Lord."

I got the feeling he was mocking me, but ignored it, looking back to the Canoness. "That everyone?"

The woman nodded, but a look of distaste crossed her face, as if being around these other races was nearly to much for her. She was itching to get to fighting. They all were. "Of Course my Lord." She glared at the Thousand Son, Ahriman, as if daring him to contridict her, but he said nothing, didn't even move.

"Alright, now. Lets start with something simple. What the fuck are you all doing in my house!?"

A dozen voices spoke at once, arguing, pointing fingers. Sighing, I rolled over, slamming my hand down on the table. "ONE AT A TIME!"

It was the Eldar chick who spoke as soon as the others were quieted. "I believe I can explain, or at least try." She slowly stood, holding her spear lightly, pointing it at Ahriman. "This fool was attempting a spell of great and destructive power that threatened the stability of the materium, the webway, everything. We were working a spell to counter his." She gestured with her spear, encompasing the rest of the little group of opposing forces. "But our battles interupted the two spells, causing them to counteract and combine in a way no one could have predictied. We were all drawn in to a hole in the warp that brought us here. Another place, another time, another world? I do not know for certain. But here we are."

Warp? Webway? I didn't understand a word of this crap. Sighing, I rested an arm over my eyes, shutting them tight. "And how do I get rid of you?"

"There is no way to acuretly recreate the spell. We could tear open another hole and return where we came .... or utterly annilate ourselves, you, and most certainly this entire world."

And shoving them into a box and burying them in the back yard, while tempting, didn't seem much of an option. Stomping the little Ork bastards had been one thing. Killing all of them? A bit more then my morality could handle. "So basically I'm stuck with the lot of you, huh?"

It was Shrike who spoke next, stepping forward and unsheathing claws like the General's, though much bigger and shinier, glaring at everyone not human. "We can always get rid of some of this retched scum."

Sighing, I slapped a hand down infront of him. "I don't want you little bastards tearing up my house. You all just shut up or get out. Simple as that."

The wolverine wannabe looked ready to rip my hand to shreds with those little claws of his, but then the walking trashcan spoke, voice booming despite its tiny size. "**He is right Brother. As distasteful as it is, we are no longer within the gaze of the Emperor. We will remain vigilant, as is our duty, but until such time as we can find a way to return home, we must abide by the desires of the ruler of this land.**"

Now I was surprised. I hadn't expected any help, much less from the walking freezer. Slowly, one by one, grumbling agreements came from each faction, watching eachother warily but not willing to risk being turned to paste. Closing my eyes with a heavy sigh, I waved a hand idly. "Just don't tear up the place, got it? Otherwise I'm going to toss the lot of you in a blender."

One by one they all drifted off, until only the Eldar chick, Macha was left. Slowly standing, she studied me for a long moment, her eyes again seeming to pick me apart before I cracked them open, looking at her. "Our path is now yours to guide."

Before I could question her, she turned and bounded off the table, her buddies following her. Blinking at the space she vacated, I sighed softly, rubbing my eyes. What had I gotten into this time?

Hearing a yelp from down the hall, I scowled, sitting up. "DAMNIT! WHAT ARE YOU ASSHOLES DOING TO MY DOG!?"


	2. Settling In

First off, I'm actually amazed by the good reviews I've gotten. I honestly didn't expect them, much less so quickly. That first was my "serious" one. As the story goes on, we'll get into some more humorous moments. And I will almost certainly bring in more factions and groups.

As for using established characters .... well, I only honestly know a few of them. For example, I know little about the Raven Guard other then what I've read on Wiki sites, even less about Shike. I originally thought of using the Blood Ravens, but I thought that may perhaps be to generic. The Canoness is original (Sadly I cannot find any named ones outside of the Dawn of War: Soulstorm chick and she creeps the hell out of me with the way she messes herself everytime someone shoots a flamer). But as it goes on, we may get more big names. After all, Gorgutz always has his tunnels dug, right? -wink wink-

And now, the next chapter of Mini Hammer.

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To be honest, its amazing what the human mind can cope with given enough time. A week ago, I was having a mental breakdown dealing with these tiny bastards. Now? Its honestly become a routine. Although I've learned to start wearing slippers around the house after stepping on an orc for the eight time. Their spikey bits hurt like hell in the morning.

A wake up in the morning to the Sisters singing hymn's. Compared to that crappy alarm clock that blared at me every morning, its actually pretty soothing. They've set up a chapel on my dresser out of the old lego blocks I've kept since I was a kid and the various silver and pewter figurines I've bought over the years when I have a few extra bucks. ... And I'm being literal about the chapel part. Pews, altar, church spires, even a little bell they've gotten from god knows where. How they managed to make a scale chapel in a week with freaking lego's I will never know. But do it they did. Not a bad job of it either. Need to remember to go out and buy them some more blocks today. They want to add a reflectory or something like that to the thing.

Now, at first I didn't want the chicks in my room. Having a quite literal army watch me as I slept? No thank you. But everytime I shuffled them out, they just got back in. Seems they think I'm some kind of Avatar of their god. Everyday I try to convince them I'm not, but then they just start spouting more gospel. Teresa's favorite seems to be _"The Emperor is our Father and Guardian, but we must also guard they Emperor"_. Flatering? Yes. Creepy? Hell yeah. But again, after you go through it enough you start to get use to it.

Sitting up, rubbing sleep from my eyes, I fumble for my glasses, sleepily muttering an apology when I nearly knock one of the sisters over before finding them, slipping them on and looking to the sisters on my nightstand. Apparently every night they leave a troop of chicks with backpack wings they call "Seraphim" their to watch over me and make sure the "heretics and xenos" don't attempt to "bewitch my sight".

I just hope I don't accidently crush one of the crazy ass nuns.

"Mornin ...." Letting out a ear splitting yawn, I stretch out as they all bow, the Canoness stepping out from the little group. "Didn't burn anything down last night did you?"

Teresa, as always, looked offended, but she handled it well. "No lord. As you asked, we have not used our cleansing flames on anything within your realm, despite the black tide that hangs over it."

Sighing, I shake my head, kicking my feet over the side of the bed, looking down to make sure I wasn't going to step on one of their "rhino's" or something again. "You really need to relax sister. No wonder your hair turned white." Standing, I stretched again, feeling my back pop. "What do you all want for breakfast? Fruit Loops again?"

A chorus of ascent and thanks went up from the sisters as I grunted, rubbing my eyes and heading for the door, looking over at my bookcase. The Space Marines set up shop in here to, though they tended to keep well out of the way, taking the bottom three shelves of the case as their own little base, using more lego's and some books as barricades. They darted up and around the thing like flies with those jet packs of theirs or climbed up ropes with ease. Like little tireless monkeys they were. Only the boxy one, Adiac or something like that, kept to the floor, usually moving around one of my books to the floor so he and the others could read it, flipping the pages with those stubby arms of his.

As usual when I went to the kitchen, Shrike jumped up onto my shoulder with that jetpack of his, hitching a ride to "scout out the area". I didn't much mind. Truth be told, I liked Shrike. He had a wealth of stories I could pull out of him with a bit of coaxing, battles fought, legends heard, demons fought. Apparently his universe fucking SUCKED, because all he had were stories of war and such, never with happy endings. Still, he was a decent enough fellow, told me a lot about his "Imperium".

"You and your boys want anything?"

As always, he shook his head. Far as I knew, the little bastards never ate. I would think they were a bunch of robots if they didn't take their helmets off. Still, at least they weren't those Adeptus Mechanicus guys ...

A shudder went up my spine, deciding to check in on them after I got some caffine in my blood. I let the little freaks take the den, mainly because as soon as they saw the computer I heard at least one of them sob with joy. Unfortunatly, they loved to try to take the damn thing apart or get onto the internet. Apparently they think Wikipedia is a link into the mind of their god, the .... "Omnissiah", some sort of machine god. All my attempts to convince them otherwise have so far been like talking to a brick wall. At least they haven't found my porn file yet.

Walking by the living room, I gave a little wave to Guard, who were as always running those poor soldiers ragged through drills and parade routines. Apparently Stubbs loved to show his little army off. They had free run of the place since I had to seperate them and the orcs when the Orcs decided they wanted more "shiny bits" and Stubbs decided he "needed more room for manuveurs". I had to admit, it was kind of fun watching the greenies try to pummel the crap out of an entire tank column (Which Stubbs seemed to have a particular hard on for, particularly those "Baneblades" of his. Even as small as they are I don't want to get shot with that damn cannon of theirs.), but I eventually tore them apart, made the Orcs stay in the guest bedroom, and took away Stubbs Baneblades for a few days. I swear, he started crying when I locked them in my mom's old chest. After watching him mope for about two days I finally broke down and gave them back after he promised to have his little live fire exercises outside.

I think he's still upset about that, but the soldiers themselves seem to like me, particularly after I stomped one of their "comissars" after a long day at work. Apparently taking a break was heresy and after hearing him screaming about how he was going to shoot the lot of them for five minutes while I was trying to watch House. Everyone learned a lesson that day.

Shut the fuck up when I'm watching TV.

Now they love it when I turn on the TV because that means they get to lay back on the tanks, pull out their smokes or their booze (its like watching an army of GI Joe's go on break), lay back on the tanks, and watch TV to.

"Stubbs is being to lax on them again."

Sighing, I look to Shrike, who was glaring at the guard from my shoulder. As always, he had some problem with the Guard. "Well, nobody's going to war here, so they should just chill out."

Looking at me, Shrike pulled off his little helmet, scowling from his perch. "A moment's of laxity breeds a lifetime of heresy."

Shaking my head, I kept on to the kitchen. "And a missed breakfast breeds a lifetime of indigestion for me, so I'm getting some food. Sure your not hungry?"

Shrike's only answer was a grunt as I walked into the kitchen. The Tau had set up shop here, taking the counters and table as their own. They were pretty helpful, eager even to help me with meals, fetching stuff for me while I made myself food and enough for seven pint sized armies. I have to admit, its adorable watching two of their little "Crisis Suits" trying to carry around a box of cereal, a trio of their "Hammerhead" tanks hovering along behind them dragging the milk jug.

But they're so helpful its kind of creepy at times, always saying its "for the greater good". Of all my little house guests, these guys were the nicest .... and the ones I kept feeling like I had to worry about.

At least they have the coffee brewed for me when I wake up. Getting myself a cup, taking in the rich aroma, I grab one of my kid sister's little toy tea cups I had started to keep near the machine since my guests arrived. Shrike instantly jumped down and was practically bouncing when I poured a bit of coffee into it, sitting it down before getting another and pouring another cup, handing it to him. He says he comes with me for "recon". I know he only comes because he loves the coffee.

I can't help but smirk everytime I see this grizzled, rough faced, rather badass looking killer drinking out of a bright pink cup with yellow flowers he has to hold with two hands to sip. I've wanted to take a picture for almost a week now. Only the thought of him trying to gouge out my eyes with those claws of his in my sleep stop me.

Taking a sip of my own cup, I look over and, sure enough, Macha is sitting their, holding the second cup and sipping it. I have literally no idea where she or the rest of the "Eldar" are staying. Everytime I think I get close, I only find an empty spot on the floor, completly free of dust. But she always just .... "poofs" out of nowhere when I'm not looking. I think she stopped off in Japan before she came here.

Looking over at the Tau Crisis Suits pouring cereal into a bowel for me, struggling to lift it up, I couldn't help but think they did to.

"Mad ninja skills you get there Macha."

Macha smiled up at me, taking another dainty sip from the steaming cup, black hair drapped down to her back. "Why thank you Mon-keigh. I will take that as a compliment."

I still had no idea what Mon-keigh meant, but I always got they impression it was an insult. Still, I think she had that attitude with everyone. Besides, she was the reason I had figured out as much as I did about everyone else. Shrike has his own opinions of course, but his sounded like half propoganda to me. Macha, she was candid about everyone's pro's and con's, including her own.

Picking them both up, I sat them down on the only empty spot at the kitchen table, going back and getting the food the Tau had made me, thanking them before sitting down, looking at the two. Shrike, as always, was switching between shooting glares at Macha and taking long sips of his coffee, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. Macha, on the other hand, seemed quite content, ignoring Shrike and sipping her own coffee, though wincing from time to time at the taste. Probably to strong for her, but I liked it that way. It cleared the cobwebs out of my head.

Infact, something I noticed about Macha was, besides the Orks (Who I was 95% certain were to stupid to care), was the only one who didn't seem troubled or concerned by this change or by being in a home with everything super size. If anything, she seemed quite happy with this.

Taking a bite of my ceral, I decided it was time to finally bridge that subject with her. "So Macha, ... how come your so happy?"

Stupid, blunt, but I wanted an answer damnit. And Macha smiled, as if she had expected nothing less. "Because Mon-Keigh, I don't have to guide my people's path anymore. I can no longer control them. It is in your hands now."

Frowning, I took another bite of cereal, pointing the spoon at the pint sized woman. "You said that the first day. What exactly are you talking about?"

Again, she smiled enigmatically, sitting the large (in her hands) cup. "It is my duty to guide my people down the path of fate, to see what the future holds and guide it to protect our people. But no longer is it in my hands anymore. It is in yours. All of our paths, our futures are." That enigmatic smile grew. "It is terrifying, yes .... but there is something .... liberating about it. The mantle of Farseer does not way as heavily upon me."

A scowl tugged at my lips, my head shaking. "Now hang on, I'm not doing anything but letting you all sleep around the house. I'm not "leading" or "guiding" anyone."

Shaking her head, Macha slowly stood, dusting off her robes. "That is because you don't have the eyes to see Mon-Keigh."

Sighing in annoyance, I took another bite of my cereal, chewing loudly as I glared a hole into the table. Somehow, despite being an inch high, that chick ALWAYS made me feel like she was really in charge.

I hadn't even finished my cereal before the first crisis of the day broke out, Bandit running in with a band of orcs clinging to his fur. Apparently, the greenies thought he was "the bosses bestest squiq" and fell in love with him. And once they stopped trying to shoot at him, Bandit seemed to enjoy giving them rides. But now the little bastards where yelling, whooping, shooting their little pop gun pistols into the air, and I knew they did something stupid again.

Reaching out, I grabbed Bandit's color, stopping the speeding malamute as I looked down at the Orks clinging to his fur. "What did you idiots do now?"

One of the orcs grinned up at me with a broken toothed grin, a metal plate hammered over his right eye (apparently you should NEVER see an Ork doctor as I had begun to learn). "Oy boss! We got one of dem dakka boxes from da humie gits!"

Now, one could never claim to understand an Ork, but you could pick out about every third word or so. Often, that was enough. "Dakka boxes? You mean you stole one of the guard's tanks?"

The orc grinned even bigger. "OY! Dat's wut I said boss! Wez gonna fix er up, make er nice un Orky!"

Sighing in frustration, I stood up, dragging Bandit by the collar. "Goddamnit, I told you no more looting!"

I could feel Macha and Shrike grabbing onto my shirt for a ride as I went off to the guest room. These little bastards were going to blow up my house, I knew it.

And why the hell did it feel like Macha was smiling at me?


	3. I Am The Lawgiver!

As If You Cared: As I said, I have no plans for them, at least not yet. But who knows what the future will bring? As for quest writing, its something I may consider as the story grows if ideas start coming slower, perhaps in Omake form or as chapters dealing with others experiencing this "little" phenomenon. Something I'll take into consideration.

Inquisitor Soren: Honestly, I hadn't thought about the Inquisition when I started this, considering the fact I was focusing on armies and the Sister's of Battle could be, in some senses, considered a Inquisition Army. But after reading your review, an idea came to me. Not spoiling anything, but I may play on it later. And the thought of little orks with a REAL gun? Someone would die horribly.

Icee: I have NO idea if dogs exist in Warhammer, at least in a manner we would recognize. I'm certain their are dog like species, but actual dogs? Dunno. And Orcs being orcs, they'd see Bandit and think "BIG SQUIQ! 3"

ZomRomCom: Exactly. As of yet, I have no plans. But that may change as the story goes on.

I appreciate all the kind reviews. I'll try to have updates every day or two, but ... no promises. I churn out what I can when I can slip away and when the ideas come.

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I've already decided the guest bedroom has become a lost cause. There is only one way that room can be cleaned now.

With fire.

Maybe I'll ask the Sisters to do it before I get rid of these little bastards.

Don't get me wrong. The Orks have a certain charm in their simple stupidity. Unlike everyone else I've talked to, they fight these neverending goddamn wars for one simple reason.

They love to fight.

No higher moral authority, no self rightousness, no underhanded tactics. Just "Look, fightin! WAAAAARGH!". Makes them easy to understand.

Unfortunatly, it also means, out of everyone here, they give me the most damn trouble, despite my status as "Warboss" to them now (Apparently, the Ork that looked half toaster was their first "boss". When I stomped him into the carpet, I became the new boss. ... That and I scare the crap out of them.). So far, I've only had to stomp about 80 of them to keep them in line when it comes to the "No killing the "umies or da pointy ears".

Unfortuantly, that doesn't fix two problems I have when it comes to these little guys.

One, they don't know how to NOT fight, so ... they end up fighting eachother. The guest room has turned into a warzone, all the clans building different forts and camps all around the room out of anything they could find, from scrap to garbage, legos to cardboard boxes. At last count, I had five of them running around in here ... but with the way they seemed to multiply and kill eachother, I could never be sure. One day I'd have eight, the next 2. Always fighting, tearing eachother apart, even their own clans when the fighting got really good.

Number two was a bit more complicated. Orks had very certain, very stupid ideas how things should be. They loved to sneak out at night and "borrow" the others vehicles and weapons, tearing them apart for scrap or "fixin um" by making them "more Orky" (Which usually involved either a ton of red paint, which I have no idea where they got from, taping guns and rockets to the sides for "more dakka" or adding random metal plates and spikes all over it). And no matter how many times I told them not to, night after night they would run off and do it. Apparently with being bloodthirsty idiots they were klepto's.

Grabbing the baseball bat I had long learned to keep next to the guest room door, I pressed my shoulder into it, feeling Shrike and Macha gripping onto my collar as I elbowed it open, peeking in .... and promptly ducking down when a tiny rocket about the size of my pinky nail corkscrewed past my head to hit the wall with a dull crump, leaving a soot stain on the wall. Cursing, I shoved it open, looking in.

The landscape had changed again since I had been in here last, one of the forts torn down and used to add onto the other four. Looks like the "Snakebites" had been wiped out again, with most of the spoils in the "Evil Sunz" camp. That was usually the case. It seems the old "boss" had been one of them and as such they had some of the best toys and troops ... if you could call any ork fighter a good soldier. Served me fine considering that Gorkip, my little "lieutenant" was the leader of that clan now and thus my "voice" in the Orks.

As was usually the case, they were all fighting, shooting at eachother, chopping at eachother with crude scrap iron blades, running around in cobbled together trucks and buggies shooting anything and everything. Cries of "WAAAAARGH!!!!" and gunfire were everywhere. You could barely hear yourself think.

So, I had to resort to my usual tactic to make myself heard.

Taking the bat, I swung it like a golf club, hard, right into the side of a passing buggy. The ork driver barely had time to scream out before he and vehicle were sent flying, right into the wall of the closest camp, in this case the Goffs.

"KNOCK IT OFF YOU IDIOTS OR NEXT TIME I'LL AIM FOR YOU!"

I never had to say who I was talking to. It had the desired effect of making them all think I was looking RIGHT at them. In moments the fighting had slowed and then stopped, the Orks milling around in confusion, looking up at me sheepishly. Swinging the baseball bat up onto my shoulder, hearing Shrike mutter a curse when I nearly hit him, I walked forwards, looking back and forth through the wreckage that had once been my spare guest room.

Furniture was chared, ripped and generally torn apart. Even the heavy bed had suffered, the mattress ripped and burned in dozens of places from tiny bullets and rockets, foam spilling out in places. The stink was, quite frankly, memorable. Apparently Orks had never heard of a bath.

"GORKIP! GET OUT HERE, NOW!"

Yelling was the only thing that really worked to get an Orks attention I had learned. After swatting another Ork near my feet for emphasis, Gorkip scrambled out, looking around nervously. "Uhhh .... yah boss?"

Crouching down, I scooped him up quickly, grabbing him and lifting him to eye level. "Gorkip .... what did I tell you?"

Gorkip flinched, Shrike chuckling in my ear at seeing the Ork cowering in fright. Even Macha seemed amused by the sight, but that was more a feeling then anything considering she just watched silently. "Dat .... we don't beat up da humies?"

"AND!?"

"And .... da pointy ears?"

Scowling, I flicked a finger right into his face, breaking his nose for the ... eight or ninth time. I had stopped keeping track. Yelping, he clamped ham sized hands over his face. "Don't play stupid with me Gorkip. I know your smarter then that."

Shrike snorted on my shoulder. "Not by much I'd wager."

Gorkip snarled at the Space Marine, but a glare from me silenced him. "Ya mean ... da dakka box?"

"No, the fluffy pink elephant. OF COURSE THE "DAKKA BOX" YOU IDIOT!? I told you no more looting!"

Oh god, I was talking like them now.

Gorkip trembled in my grip, looking over to a fort over my the closet. "It wasn't us boss, honest! It was dem Deathskull boyz! Dey waz the da ones lootin, not us! Wez listen to ya boss!"

Of course. It usually was them. Apparently, the "Deathskulls" were klepto even by Ork standards. They stole anything and everything they thought they could get away with. With a grunt, I tossed Gorkip aside, listening to him yell before he landed face first into the mattress. Of course I had aimed for it ...

Moving over, I slammed the baseball bat down beside their fort, making its walls rattle unsteadily as I looked down. There, right in the middle of the camp, was one of the guards "Leman Russ" tanks. Apparently, according to Shrike, they were the most common tank in the galaxy and for good reason. Named for one of the Primarchs, the first Space Marines, they were tough, reliable, easy to maintain, and could run off just about anything.

The orks had gone to work already painting it, bolting on new plates seemingly at random, planting ork skulls on spikes on the back. The leader of this little group, an Ork with so many robotic parts he would have made Gorgutz look normal, looked up at me. I swear, its little green face paled at the sight of me. Reach down, I snatch it up, right out of the camp, the little green vermin the orks called "gretchin" screaming and jumping out of it as it rose into the air.

Holding it in one hand, bat in the other, I brought the bat down with a crack, right on a line of their cobbled together parts, bangs as ammo and fuel went off sounding, scrap and tires flying. Glaring at the Ork, I scowled. "Next time, I introduce you to the ol "Lawgiver", you got it Tiny?"

"Oy ... OY! We gotz it boss! Won't neva happen again!"

Bullshit.

As I turned to leave, I heard chuckling from the closet, Ahriman's voice coming through it. "Having trouble with them again boy?"

Smacking the bat against the door, I held back a shiver, scowling at it. "You want to be next Smurf Boy?"

"Oh no, of course not. Merely making an observation, as always."

Scowling, I quickly left, keeping my face neutral. I didn't like to show it, but Ahriman and those .... "Chaos Marines" of his ..... they creeped me out. I didn't like to be around them. I gave them that closet, shut the door, and never looked in again. I heard ..... things at night sometimes. I didn't like to think about it.

Maybe having the Sisters always play bodyguard and nursemaid wasn't so bad.

Slamming the door shut behind me, I sighed softly, rubbing my eyes with my free hand once I put the bat back in its spot, heading towards the living room. Shrike looked at me, flexing his gauntlets. "You should let us get rid of those traitors. The Orks and the Eldar ... they are bad enough. But those ... SCUM!? It pains me to know they still breathe!"

I glanced over at Macha, but if she took any exception at the Eldar comment she made no sign, shrugging her shoulders. "As much as it pains me, the Mon-Keigh is right. It is dangerous to let them run loose."

Sighing, I shook my head. I knew they were right, in my gut. I didn't like having them here either. The orks were destructive, but they didn't know better. Besides, they were like cockroaches. I could kill every one of them and a day later more would be running around. But those "Chaos" mutts .... they had a quiet malice to them that chilled me.

Still, a small part of me told me, they may be my best chance of getting rid of ALL these idiots, sending them back where they belonged. That's what I wanted, right? My life back to normal.

So for now, I would stomach it and see what happened.

"They're not exactly running around. They're pretty much locked in their and if they come out, I doubt the Orks could keep from fighting them for long."

Shrike snorted. "Unless that bastard uses his sorcery."

Shaking my head a bit more forcefully, I felt them both grip tighter to keep from getting dislodged. "Look, don't worry, okay? I'll deal with it if I have to."

"... As you wish." Even as he said that, I knew Shrike was thinking if he could get away with taking care of them without me knowing.

Entering the living room, I saw Stubbs forming up his armies to march, most likely to take revenge on the Orks for stealing another of his tanks. When they spotted me, the army froze at parade rest, Stubbs looking up at me. Once he got over his intial fear of me, he actually looked quite regal when I had to deal with him, bearing himself up tall, always flanked by that guy in the hood (Who I learned later was a tamed "Psyker", basically a psychic), the guy in the funny hat (A commissar, who like its WWII russian counterpart wasn't very nice to be around when the fighting was going bad), and a pair of guardsmen in far shinier equipment then the others. He didn't lack courage, but I had the impression that he saw criticism at every turn.

"Don't try to stop us again Giant. This time we are going to stamp out the greenskin filth once and-"

Shaking my head, I sat the tank down infront of him. "Here it is again. Shouldn't take you long to get it back how you like. I've already dealt with the Orks. They won't do it again."

"And that's what you said last time! I will not-"

Leaning closer, I glared at the man, his guards tensing, reaching for weapons that would most likely have little effect. "General, I would think a commander would care more for the lives of his men. Hell, you might beat the Orks, but you'd lose a LOT of men. And even if you did, do you really think you could beat ME?"

Stubbs hands clenched into fists as he glared at me, shoulders trembling in anger, as if he wanted to give his men to order to fire right now. Again, he was showing that he was a bit of a hothead. I liked the soldiers, I honestly did. I had even talked with them on a few occasions about families and worlds I would never see. I had no wish to see them die, even without worrying about my house.

But I was begining to think the leaders of the Guard didn't care quite as much about their men as I did. But I had no way of knowing if Stubbs was the norm or an exception. And I really had no unbiased opinions anywhere to ask about it. The Space Marines, Sisters, or Adeptus would probably sing its praises. The Orks wouldn't know anything I was certain. And Macha .... well, despite her candure, she always had a certain .... disdain for the other races you could detect. I could ask the Tau, but I was certain I wouldn't get much more then well rehearsed propoganda with them.

Shrike, for once, seemed to want to play the diplomat, jumping down from his perch to land infront of Stubbs. "General, even with your forces, even with the support of my Chapter and the Sisters, our losses would be great in such a battle in their territory. Right now, they are fighting eachother and ignoring us. That serves our purposes far more then a hunt for glory. I know the greenskins."

His eyes turned to me, watching me through his helmet. "As long as they see our big friend here as their Warboss, as long as they fear his wrath, they will be content to fight eachother. Even if they don't kill eachother, eventually they will drain their resources and be diminished as a threat, falling back to their feral nature."

Stubbs for a moment seemed more then willing to argue, but the moment passed as he calmed, looking up at me. "The men are tense for a battle."

Smirking, I reached for the coffee table, grabbing the remote and sitting it down infront of him. "Then give them something to take their mind off it. Try 40. AMC is suppose to be showing Patton today."

Stubbs cocked an eyebrow. "Patton?"

My grin grew. "One of the greatest generals the world has ever seen. You'd like him."

Stubbs studdied me for a long moment, as if searching for some slight, but eventually turned, walking away with his guard. Shaking my head, I glanced down at Shrike. "Thanks."

Looking up at me again, Shrike shook his head. "Don't thank me. It was the truth. But when the fighting starts, and it will, you best decide what side your on." Turning, he went to follow the General, walking through the ranks of dispersing soldiers and tanks.

Slowly standing, I sighed softly, running a hand through my hair. More and more it seemed that was the case, that I was putting off the inevitable. Still, what else could I do?

Looking to me from my shoulder, Macha smiled faintly. "Now you know the pain of a Farseer Mon-Keigh. Knowing what may be inevitable, able to do little more then perhaps stall it."

Scowling, I walked toward the door, taking her off and sitting her down on the small bench I kept my bookbag on, grabbing my shoes. "What else can I do? I don't want you idiots destroying my house. Think you can restrain yourself while I'm at school?"

Macha smiled enigmatically, but said nothing as I did the laces, whistling for Bandit and opening the door to let him out, watching him run to the door, shake off the few orks that still clung to his fur (much to their cries of dismay), then run out to do his business as I shooed them off with my shoe, looking back out to watch him.

After a few minutes, my fluffy little friend ran back in, tail wagging as I knelt down, scratching behind his ears like he liked. "Just remember. Your the man of the house while I'm out. They give you any trouble, have a little snack."

My little friend barked, tail wagging as he gave me a little lick before rushing off to the living room, the sound of the TV reaching me. At least that would keep them occupied for a while.

Turning, grabbing my bag, I saw the hall was empty, smiling to myself. Looks like everyone was in the other room.

Just as planned.

About to sling it over my shoulder, I stopped when I saw the zipper was undone, cursing as I did it back up. That was all I needed. My books falling out walking across campus.

Stepping outside, I locked the door behind me, taking a deep breath of the air as I went towards the bus stop (Hey, I'm still working on my savings so I can get a car where the bumper isn't going to fall off everytime I hit a pothole. And with the crappy economy, that isn't so easy anymore.). And as I walked, I found myself glancing over my shoulder back towards the house.

Why did I feel like I wasn't alone?


	4. Hitchhikers Guide to College

First off, congradulations to As If You Cared for being my 13th review. Here's your prize. -plops a sickeningly adorable Ripper into his arms- Here you go.

Ripper: -smiles, revealing row after row of sharp teeth-

Careful, he's a biter.

Okay, now that that bit of random stupidity is out of the way, to answer some reviews.

To everyone who offered to write or offer ideas: I will of course accept any ideas. I won't promise to use them or write them out, but if I see one I like I'll certaintly try to fit it in at some point and give credit for the idea to its creator.

Brother Chimo: Yeah, I admit the preview isn't exactly steller. Still, it serves its purpose.

Imperial Bob: Now that's not true. The Emperor's Children and other servants of Slaneesh LOVE the Bolter Bit**s. Main reason I didn't use the Emperor's Children as my Chaos faction to be honest. But as is becoming my motto, who knows what the future brings?

Macha: Me.

Shut the hell up.

Lok: Yeah, I do enjoy writing for the Orks. Surprisingly, I find them one of the easiest factions to write for. Combined with their penchant for utter stupidity in both 40K and Warhammer Fantasy, they'll be the main comedy force running around. But don't think I'm forgetting they Imperial Guard or the Sisters.

Isador Akios: Yeah, my grammer is a bit poor. I may have one of my friends start proofreading for me. ... Or finally get a working copy of Microsoft Word. I write all this out in Wordpad. As for the Sisters and the "They" and "Thy", yes, that actually was a mistake on my part. I'll go back and edit the chapters a bit to fix that little error once I have this posted. Thanks for catching it for me.

Bezerkoid: Well, read ahead and see for yourself.

Icee: Right. About. ...... Now.

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Grunting after walking out of my Psych class, I went straight for the cafeteria, dropping it down on an empty table in the back and thudding my head down onto it, laying there face down as the thunk echoed, drawing a few looks. I ignored it.

Yeah, that was special. I spent so much time rounding up the Orks or keeping the Adeptus from tearing apart my laptop that I forgot to study AGAIN. My grades were going to start tanking HARD soon. Hitting my head on the table again, I bit back a curse.

I could kick them all into the street. ... Literally. Maybe I'd get lucky and a bus would run them over. Or toss them into the river. I doubt Space Marines and Sisters could swim in all that armor. Or set them on fire. The Sisters would appreciate the irony.

Of course, everytime I did that I ended up picturing them looking up at me with big, questioning eyes, asking me "Why?". It was like killing a bunch of kittens.

.... Spikey kittens .... with guns .... but the point was the same.

Hitting my head again, I muttered a curse under my breath. I was screwed, plain and simple. I couldn't get rid of the bastards and I couldn't study with the little helions ripping my place up. Again I smacked my head into the table.

"Little"

Thud.

"Hellraising"

Thud.

"Sons"

Thud.

"Of"

Thud.

"Bit-"

"Your going to give yourself a concussion if you continue as you are Mon-Keigh."

Freezing with my forehead an inch from the table, my head slowly turned, looking to my right, towards my bookbag. There, standing infront of a bag I didn't leave unzipped, was Macha, leaning on her spear, watching my with her head cocked curiously to the side. When I looked at her, a faint smile tugged at her lips.

"Tell me, is it theramutic for you Mon-Keigh to hurt yourselves?"

Biting back a curse, I slid my seat nosily so I was sitting infront of her and my bag, blocking it from view, my voice a harsh whisper.

"What the hell are you doing here!?"

Macha frowned at my voice, as if annoyed by the tone. "I would assume the same as the others. I was curious to see this college you were always running off to."

"....." A scowl slowly crossed my lips. "What others!?"

Grabbing my bag, I dumped it out onto the table. Books, notepads, a calculator, and some pens and such fell out ... along with a tumble of small bodies.

The Sisters were the first to recover, Teresa and two of her "Seraphim" looking up at me, a sheepish grin on her unarmored face. "My .... My lord. We were ... just seeking to maintain your security."

About a dozen orks were yelling at eachother, smacking at eachother with meaty hands as they tried to disentangle themselves from a massive dogpile. Next to them, four of the lighter armored Space Marines I had heard called "Scouts" were scanning around the room, one of them holding a particularly large sniper rifle and heavier armor. When the leader noticed me, he froze. I was trembling with anger, my eyes smoldering.

"You ... idiots!! You think I want people knowing I have a couple pint sized armies running around my house!?"

Macha peeked her head around me to the cafeteria, her voice soft. "Then perhaps you should not appear to be talking to yourself Mon-Keigh."

Freezing, I slowly turned my head around. Almost every table was looking at me, conversation mostly stopped. Face flushing, I swallowed, looking at them. "What!?"

Everyone looked away, conversation picking up and reaching a comfortable din again as I looked back to the others, my voice much lower. "Damnit, what the hell are you doing here!?"

Macha idly toyed with her spear, looking around. "I was curious to see what was outside your home. I know everything is much larger here ... but it is still quite jaring."

Teresa stood to her full height, her two Seraphim flanking her. "And you cannot expect us to leave you without a guard milord! What if something should happen?!"

The scout captain rested his rifle on his shoulder, snorting faintly. "We saw the Orks attempting to flee and thought we should follow them, make certain they did not have a cache of weapons or something hidden."

My glare turned to the orcs, who were still bickering and shoving at eachother. "And you idiots!?"

One of them, the largest of the group, probably their "Nob", as they called their leader, looked up at me, blinking stupidly. "Uhhh .... Dunno boss. Just thought there'd be good fightin with ya."

Sighing, I slapped my palm over my face, closing my eyes and muttering to myself. "Don't cause a scene, don't cause a scene."

Macha stepped forward, tapping her staff faintly. "Mon-Keigh, this is not our world. We know nothing but what you tell us. Are you surprised we would wish to see and learn more for ourselves?"

Blinking, I lowered my hand. "And what happens if someone sees you? I'm betting there would be some Area 51 nuts who would love to do a REAL alien autopsy."

Macha snorted faintly. "Many Mon-Keigh have tried. I am not afraid."

"They were never 20 times larger then you."

Macha frowned, clutching her spear a bit tighter, but I saw I had hit a nerve. Heedless, I pressed on.

"Look, I'm stuck with you little bastards. I gotta look out for you. And that means YOU can't go off half cocked like you would in your own world! Your guns don't do much more then sting, same with your swords. An army of you would probably not do much more then piss off a full grown adult. You want me to take care of you idiots? Then start LISTENING!"

"...." Macha's head slowly lowered, gripping her spear tightly. "... You are right Mon- ... Human."

I blinked, leaning back a bit. I hadn't expected an agreement. I expected her to play superior or something, not apologize.

"This is not our world. And in its own ways it is more dangerous then our own. We cannot know what to expect here. We must rely on you to protect us. ... I believe we were right to be curious ... but we should have told you what we were doing."

Her head slowly bowed. Teresa hesitated, then did the same, the Celestian's following her example. The Scouts didn't bow, but they shifted uneasily, looking amongst one another. And the Orks .... well, the Orks got into another arguement and started slapping at eachother.

"... Alright ... maybe ... maybe we can start getting you guys out a little ... I mean, if we're careful ... but not a lot of you. And no more surprises!"

Macha nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. And I couldn't help but wonder if I just got played. She was smart and according to Teresa and Shrike, manipulative as hell. But I couldn't know for certain. I just had to trust I made the right choice.

One of the scout's looked up, gesturing behind me with wide eyes. "Contact!"

My head snapped around, looking behind me. What I saw dropped my jaw.

Now, I suppose I should explain something about myself. You see, I don't fit into the crowds, not really. Not athletic, though I can play a game of pickup ball decently well. Not particularly intelligent, though I can put you through a rather long winded debate on theology or politics. Basically what I'm trying to say is I don't stand out of the crowd in any way, shape, or form. Put me up against a brick wall and the wall will stand out more.

And we've all known "That Girl" at one point or another. The girl that, when she walks into a room, she grabs all eyes. The one that, if you throw her into a canvas sack and shave her head, she would still look like a model and probably have everyone else doing it within the week. Popular, stunning, intelligent, the whole laundry list.

Melissa, Mel to her friends (Which I didn't happen to be one of), was that girl here. A cheerleader for the college football team, so she was already the fantasy of about 80% of the student population, with a 3.8 GPA, which made her the fantasy of the other 20%. I don't think I had said more then five words to her in the course of two years of college.

And she was walking right towards me, flashing a smile that was all pearly whites and straight edges.

I suddenly realized what a deer in headlights must feel like.

Shit, what was she coming over here for?! Had she heard me talking to Macha and the others!?

Remembering them, I quickly snapped my head back to the table, about to whisper to them to get into the bag when I felt a hand drop onto my shoulder. With my nerves suddenly frayed to the breaking point, I had to fight to keep myself from jumping.

"Excuse me. Ummm .... Michael right?"

Now, if you've ever had a girl get your name wrong, you know that this is a kick to the ego like no other. You literally get chopped down about halfway.

"Shawn actually."

A flush covered her cheeks as Melissa laughed. "Oh, of course! I'm such a scatterbrain sometimes. When you meet so many people ... Well anyways, its not important. Listen, we're in Psych together, right?"

And World History, not to mention Political Science and Trig 101, but that didn't seem prudent to mention right now.

"Uh ... yeah ...."

"I knew it! Listen, I accidently threw out my assignment paper when I was cleaning out my bag. Could I just steal a quick peek at yours, just so I can jot down what it was? Please!?"

"I ... Yeah, sure ...."

Turning, I reached for my bag, trying to block her sight of it ... and froze, looking at the table. Everyone had just ... frozen, holding their weapons, aiming at invisible targets. The scouts had fallen into a rough semi-circle, bolters pointing outward, their sergant resting his cheek against his rifle, sighting down it at some target far away. Teresa and the Celestian's had also pulled their weapons, the two jetpack equipped Sisters looking ready to spring to the air, bolter pistols pointed ahead, Teresa raising her sword as if to strike down some invisible sword, a cry frozen on her lips.

Macha stood apart from the others, her spear held before her, ready to strike out, its tip hovering above the table, motionless. And the Orks .... shit, the Orks were gone!!! I fought down the urge to panic, waiting from them to start moving again even as Melissa leaned over me, looking at the pint sized soldiers, a soft gasp escaping her.

Oh shit, I was caught. I was screwed, I was screwed, I was-

"Wow! They look so lifelike!"

... I was saved!

Melissa leaned closer to Macha, studying her intently.

"I mean ... wow. I've heard of people collecting little figures like these, but I never knew they were so real. Are they yours?"

"I ... Yeah! I ... I collect them. Have for a long time."

Digging into my bag, I searched for the paper, praying they could hold those poses for just a bit longer. I had just begun to pull it out when I saw Melissa reaching out to pick up Macha.

"Don't!"

Her hand jerked back like I had burned it, her eyes darting to me. I flushed, handing her the paper.

"I ... I just painted them. I ... I wouldn't want you to get your hands covered with it."

She flushed pink, taking the paper. "Oh. I ... sorry. I just ... I mean, they look so real. I swear, that one looked like it moved."

Shifting, I squirmed in my seat as she wrote down onto a spare sheet of paper our assignment, chewing on her lower lip before handing it back to me, smiling.

"Thanks! Sorry to bother you when your working."

Flushing, I shook my head, glancing at the table.

"Yeah ... I mean, its no problem."

Looking at the table, she smiled again.

"... I seriously can't get over how lifelike they look."

Turning her head to me, she shifted faintly. "Maybe ... you can show me your other work sometime."

Before I could say anything, someone called her name from across the cafeteria, drawing a wave from her as she rushed off to talk to them. Once she was gone, I held my breath for a five count before dropping facedown onto the table, my heart beating again. Shit, that had been to close.

"... Never have a seen an uglier Mon-Keigh."

Blinking, I turned my head to look at Macha, who was glaring past me at Melissa's retreating back, Teresa standing next to her and nodding in agreement.

"I agree. Her hair? Completly impractical. It would do nothing but get in her way in a fight."

"Absolutely graceless to. Look at her, hobbling along."

"She couldn't even fill out a Novite's armor with that figure."

"Not to mention her chest. Clearly it has been augmented."

"And if her ass was any bigger she wouldn't be able to fit through those tables."

Blinking dumbly at the two, I looked to the Celestian's and Scouts, who were both looking amongst eachother, shrugging faintly at the two's behavior. If I didn't know better, I'd say the two were jealous.

Looking around, I quickly remembered the Orks, sitting up. "Where did those idiots go?"

((**))

Outside, Thomas and Joshua were sampling the latest from Joshua's dealer, lighting up under a large oak tree outside, savoring their latest find. Thomas was the first to notice it, elbowing Joshua and pointing out into the grass. When Joshua turned his head, he blinked a few times.

Moving through the grass was one of the little take out pizza boxes that the cafeteria sold, inching its way along through the clean cut grass, little green men carrying it, singing "Orks orks orks orks. Orks orks orks orks." in time with eachother as they carried it off.

The two stones blinked as one, watching it crawl past before looking at the blunt in each of their hands. It was Joshua that broke the silence first.

"... Man, he wasn't kidding. This IS some good shit."

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And thus do we come to the end of this chapter. You can expect the next one within a few days. Again, any ideas, send them my way. If I like them, I'll squeeze them in if possible. If not ... well, thank you for the contribution. Maybe the next one.


	5. It Ain't Easy Bein Mini

First off, I appologize for the delay in posting an update. Exterminator came, so I had to get out of the house for most of the day a few days ago. Combined with my friend getting out of the hospital and ending up with swollen kidney's and a forming infection, I've been to worried to get much writing done. Still, I try to get down what I can when I feel like I can write. So here it is.

But first, as always, I answer reviews.

Zeknos: One of your ideas is pretty close to one I had, though can't talk about that one just yet. As for the others .... well, read ahead. You may see something familar.

Gforce Member 45: Well, I do have plans for Chaos. I can't spoil anything just yet, but they will have a pretty big role later on in the story, in what I'm mentally dubbing Act II.

Gyphrus-One: Very much so. Infact, that movie was one of my favorite movies as a kid. ... I wish I had a copy of that now.

Inquisitor Soren: -pictures that now- Death via laughter. .... Does that make me the Joker?

As If You Cared: I'll be looking forward to it. And Ripper-Kun! T.T It was so cute to ...

Icee: One thing I have learned. Never question women. EVER. They are more dangerous then Berzerker's of Khorne and they're minds more complex and unfathomable then the Lord of Change himself. Though perhaps we will answer this later on.

v0iddragon: Nids are honestly going to be the hardest for me to fit in, the hardest for me to fit into a bracket in terms of "how do we live with them", so they may not make it. Necrons ... well, I have plans for them to. I'm still ironing them out, so they may not make the cut, but watch and see.

Danilacious: Tau are one of my favorite armies to. Only the guard beat them out and that's for eight simple words. "Basalisk, Leman Russ, and Mother Fucking Baneblade bitches!". The problem is, there's not much in terms of Tau perspective in terms of stories for me to draw from. Fire Warrior I think is the only book that ever had you looking through a Tau's eyes and that was good awful. I'll work on writing them a bit better, maybe put some focus on the Kroot (Surprisingly, I've HAD some more looks into their mindset then the Tau themselves. Weird.)

DrinkArizona: Ask and ye shall recieve.

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I caught up to the little bastards just as they were disapering into the Annex building. Grabbing the box out of their grubby little paws, I punted one of them with enough force to send him flying up onto the roof, screaming "WAAAAAAAARGH!" ... right until a hawk grabbed him mid air and started flying off. Blinking after it, I paused just long enough to wondering who I should feel sorry for. The ork or the bird.

Looking back at the others, I glared, pointing at their oversized leader. "You! What did you think you were doing!?"

In typical Ork fashion, the Nob reacted with a mixture of fear and sheer stupidity. "We wuz hungry boss. Da umies didn't see us ...."

Growling, I gave it a swift kick to, though this one didn't send it flying like the last one had to its buddy. "Idiots!"

Scooping them up, I dumped them into my bag in a big handful, hearing them cursing and hollering inside, scuffling with eachother and the Scouts. Looking at the box once they were secure, then popped open the box, looking in. "Mhmm. Pepperoni."

Pulling out a slice, I took a big bite. I know what your thinking, but honestly, what was I going to do? Its not like I could take it back. And some little ethiopian boy would kill his neighbor for this. I wasn't going to just throw it away. Besides, who was going to know?

"HEY! What the hell are you doing with my pizza!?"

.... Fuck .... Me.

Turning my head, I saw a face I really, really, REALLY wish I didn't recognize walking toward me, flanked by four guys in Football jersey's. Franklin, Franky to his friends, "Tank" to football fans, was one of the biggest linebackers on the team and built like his namesake. He was also a guy who had it out for me like no other.

I had known him since middle school. One time, ONE time, I accidently tripped him in the cafeteria. Since then, he had had it out for me. He had made me his biggest enemy for one mistake. And now he had his sights locked on me.

"Little thieving bastard ..."

I knew how this would go. I had been in this situation to many times not to. So, I reacted how I had learned to.

I bolted.

And as I expected, they gave chase.

Now, I mentioned before that I wasn't very athletic. This is true, I'm not. But I have one field I excel in, though I suppose you could debate its merit as a sport. Track. I was DAMN good at running. And I was putting that to good use.

Tank and his buddies gave chase as I darted into the hall, weaving through packs of students, taking corners at full tilt, planting my foot into the wall to keep my momentum going and propel me forward. The football jocks were forcing their way through, shoving and battering their way through, but they were still slowed. Not by much, but enough. My own agility was letting me outpace them.

Of course, if I slowed for even a moment, they would catch up. And if one even managed to grab a hold of me for an instant, I was done. I couldn't outmuscle one of them, much less five. So when I saw the stairs, I didn't slow, aiming straight for the railing.

Hitting it at a run, I vaulted over the railing, launching myself over space at the wall. Planting my foot in it, I used it as leverage to launch myself down from the landing to the next floor without slowing. But doing something like this is NEVER smart, no matter WHAT you saw in fucking Casino Royale (If you have no damn clue what I'm talking about, wikipedia Parkour). Even an expert in that crap can land badly and that's just what I did, feeling my ankle twist and send a bolt of pain straight up my spine as I tried to tuck myself into a roll, landing heavily on my shoulder..

Biting down hard on my lip to avoid yelling out in pain, I pushed my self up, kept moving, biting even harder as the jolt's came again and again from my sprained ankle. Ducking into a computer lab, I ducked low, hearing the idiots thundering past hunting for me. Staying still, listening to them run, I let a slow sigh of relief escape me, slumping down a bit. I could taste blood in my mouth where I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. Spitting it out, I looked around, thankful the place was empty of anyone as I pulled my backpack off, looking in. "Anything broken?"

The Orks were sprawled in a pile in the corner of my bag, each one bleeding from where they had cracked skulls or been hit by flying books. The Scouts weren't much better, one of them nursing what looked like a broken arm, albeit without complaint. Made of stern stuff the Space Marines.

The Sister's, while looking scuffed and battered a bit, were unhurt. Macha, unsurprisingly, didn't even seem to have so much as a hair out of place.

It was Teresa who spoke first, glaring up at him angrily. "My Lord, who were those vile heathens!? Why did you run!? We would have stood with you, destroyed them for their arrogance! Calling you a vile thief! The nerve, they audacity!"

Shaking my head, I looked down at her, silencing her with a raised hand. "Teresa, forget it. Its nothing."

"Nothing! My Lord, those heathens tried to attack you! Let me take my sisters and we shall cleanse them with Purifiying Flame!"

Scowling, I reached in, pulling out the angry Sister of Battle and shaking my head at her. "No. Teresa, listen to me. I'm not going to let you run off and fight my battles for me. Frank is MY problem, mine. I'll handle it."

The Sister was trembling with rage, eager to speak, but it was the Scout's Leader, their Sergant, that spoke what she must be thinking. "A battle can't be won by running from it."

Looking down at the socout, I scowled faintly. "Never heard of a tactical withdrawl? Five on one isn't exactly odds I can live with."

"Do nothing but retreat and eventually you will have no where left to run."

Eyes narrowing, I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay quiet. The Sergant's words were to close to home for my taste. "Enough. Your not fighting. End of discussion."

They all seemed to fall in a sullen silence, the Sisters of course looking frustrated, along with the Orks (who had heard the word "fight" and their eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas). Zipping the bag back up, I set off to my last class, nursing a faint limp thanks to my aching ankle. Hopefully I could avoid any more problems before the day was up.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Apparently, the Space Marines have a saying. "Hope is the First Step on the Road to Disapointment". I had never heard anything more depressing then that.

I'm quickly learning the sense of that saying.

Orks apparently are poor passenger's. With classes over and me getting away from the Football team, I had been feeling relaxed, let the others out for a bit to breathe on the bus.

Big mistake.

When the Orks saw we were on a bus, or as they called it, a "Wartrukk", they got excited and just lost it, yelling and shooting into the air. I managed to shove them back in before anyone saw them, but the damage was done. Orks can't hit a target right infront of them ... but apparently they can hit the bus driver in the back of the head from the very back of the bus.

Before you ask, he's fine. Like I said, being shot by these idiots just stings like hell. But for good reason, he was pissed. And when he saw me shoving something into my bag from the back of the bus, he figured I did it.

And so here I was, now kicked off that bus and walking home with a sore ankle, two seraphim perched on my shoulders, Macha in my breast pocket with Teressa, the Scouts running ahead to "scout out" the area, and the Orks trailing behind like a couple of puppies who just got yelled at.

The silence was good. It kept me from saying something stupid. ... But of course, it wasn't to last. Surprisingly, Macha was the one to break it.

"They were merely acting out their nature."

Scowling, I winced as a particularly nasty bolt of pain traveled up my leg. "Yeah? Well their nature cost me my ride, so excuse me if I'm pissed off."

"You knew what you were getting into when you took us in, did you not?"

I couldn't keep my hand from curling into a fist, looking down at the Farseer gripping onto my breast pocket, looking up at me. Gritting my teeth, I tried to keep my voice level. "Took you in? You say it like I had a choice! You landed in my damn lap, tore my life apart, and then expect me to just grin and bear it!? I'm stuck with a bunch of pint sized horrors running around my house, tearing it apart, RUINING MY LIFE! I had enough problems already without you little hellions adding to them!"

Macha looked up at me silent, her only reaction to grip the pocket a bit tighter. I ignored her, I ignored the looks the others were giving me, just storming the rest of the way home. Tearing off my pack as soon as I was through the door, I tossed it under the side table there, the Orks cursing and howling when it barely missed them. Slamming the door shut, I pulled off my hitchhikers, sitting them none to gently down on the small table. "Look, just give me some FUCKING PEACE, ALRIGHT!?"

Storming off towards my room, I barely dodged a speeding Chimera, cursing all the while. My life seemed destined for suck. I just wanted some peace in my life! Was that to much to ask!?

Maybe I wasn't being far to them. Maybe this was a huge change for them to. But this was my life for god's sake! I had enough trouble just getting through my classes!

Sighing, I stormed into my room, slamming it shut and nearly stepping on the walking toaster, Adiac, as he carried one of my old sci-fi novels over for the others to read.

Biting back a curse again as it blaired out an appology, I just threw myself onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and jamming it over my head, hoping maybe it would make this little hell disaper.

(**)

They watched from the shadows as the traitors and xeno's left to perform whatever foul acts they saw fit, leaving the witch alone, leaning onto her spear and staring off into space, an unreadable expression covering her xeno features. The mere sight of it filled them with disgust, grips growing tighter on their blessed weapons.

They had been watching, waiting for days, watching the prey, waiting for the moment to strike. But their master had been clear. Do not strike in the presence of the giant. Do not reveal yourself. Destroy the witch once it is free from prying eyes. And his voice was the voice of Our Lord, who rests on Holy Terra.

Silently, one drew her blade across her palm slowly, the blood of a true servant of His Holiness blessing the blade with its purity.

"It is time."

As one, blades were silently drawn from scabards, the xeno witch still unaware.

"In They Emperor's name."

As one, they stepped from hiding, moving in on the motionless xeno, their blades streaked with the blood of the Pure, eager to cleanse the filth of this creature from the galaxy.

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And thus does this admitedly smaller chapter come to a close and we reach the begining of "Act I". I had planned more for this chapter, but with me stressing about my friend, my inability to stay focused on writing because of it, and general BS, I didn't get as much done or as well as I would have liked. I'll try to make it up in later chapters.

I'll go ahead and say now, my "Act's" are going to be far more action heavy then humorous. There will be some moments of humor, but the Act's themselves will have a more serious tone. Don't worry, the light hearted stuff will return quickly (I have numerous plans set aside for that), but expect the next couple chapters to be more fitting to the grimdark universe of 40K.

I'll try to work on the next chapter tomorrow morning and have it up by Monday or Tuesday, but ... I said the same thing about this chapter. We'll have to wait and see.

Reviews and suggestions are, as always, encouraged.


	6. Ambush

Timewatch: Shawn. And you'll just have to wait and see.

Bezerkoid: I'm wary of using any sort of flying unit besides jump and assault units like the Assault Marines, but I may. If I do, that'll have to wait till a bit later, in Act II when I have a means to bring in more. And Act II won't be for a while I think.

Icee: Hehehe. -looks at the lawnmower-

R'N'Rer: Yeah. Like I said, I may be able to fit them in, but ... it all depends on circumstance. I have three confirmed late arrivals in my head, but I can't speak of them. YET.

Danilacus: Whoops, my bad. And yeah, I'm hoping I can keep the right blend going. We'll see what the future brings.

Seshtah: I can't claim credit for the concept, but thanks.

DrinkArizona: -only response is to cackle manically-

Exewon: Slaaneshi Mechanicus servants = The Japense Dream?

Inquisitor Soren: Appreciated. And I'm hoping I can. Just gonna have to read ahead to see.

Blip-chan: I rule! ... Seriously though, got no problem with sharing the concept with other writers. Hell, we can turn it into a whole genre! And thanks. I DID need that. Now lets see if its enough to get me through writing this.

-cranks on the music and sets to work-

* * *

Even for a psyker of Macha's prodigious talents, these Death Cult assassians were skilled. While graceless and jerky to Eldar eyes, their speed was ALMOST a match for one of the Howling Banshee's, launching themselves from the shadows in a rush. Clearly the product of the primitive human biotics and gene enhancement.

Turning on them, flourishing her Singing Spear before slamming its base into the table beneath her, a wave of psychic force expanding out from her to blast the Assassian's back. Or most of them at least. Three managed to brace themselves against the blast, surging forward when the wave passed them.

The first was met by a lighting blast, neurons burning out before the fact that flesh was burning and melting could even be sent to the brain. The killer fell, looking in dumb shock as his body was burned and dying before his very eyes. By the time he hit the ground, he was already dead.

The second met her end on the end of the Spear, skewered mid leap through the stomach, eyes widening as blood and other bodily matter poured from the wound the further she slid down the spear until it pierced through her back. Flicking the weapon back over her shoulder, Macha threw the dying cultist over her shoulder and behind her, shock already numbing the limbs and leeching the life from her. She would be dead in a matter of seconds.

But the third was already moving into her guard, ducking a swipe from the spear's deadly blade as he got in closer. A spear is a potent weapon, able to strike outside of an opponents own reach, used to tie them up and keep them from striking. But get WITHIN the weapon's reach, get past the point, and it becomes an unwieldly staff, unable to deal a killing blow as long as you remain within that bubble, leaving they opponent open.

The death cultist realized this of course, how could she not. She had been raised from childhood with the arts of death, taught to kill in countless ways with countless weapons, all in the name of they Emperor. She knew nothing else. And before here was an example of that which the Emperor most despised.

Keeping close to Macha, the Death Cultist slashed again and again at the Eldar Farseer, only her talents for foresight allowing her to bring the spear in line time and again to block the blurring blows rained down on her. But while her opponent couldn't land a killing blow, neither could she. The cultist was to close to strike with the spear, to skilled to allow a blow from the haft of the weapon to land, and Macha could not allow her focus on her defense to slip long enough to use a psychic blast on the deluded Mon'Keigh.

And time worked in her opponents favor. Barely three seconds had passed since the battle's opening and already those hit by the psychic blast were recovering, pulling themselves up and advancing quickly. It would be a matter of moments before they were on her. And she could not defend against them all.

Seeing the paths before her, what was coming, there was only a single option she could play that would allow her to survive for longer then she could draw breath. Leaving herself open, she spun, throwing her spear with pinpoint accuracy, watching it pierce one of the assassian's through the stomach and send them flying backwards, pinning them to the ground as they're eyes glazed over and faded in a matter of moments.

But now she was unarmed, open, and the assassian she had been dueling was not going to let such folly go unpunished. Slashing out in an elegant figure eight pattern, catching the powerful psyker along the shoulder, cutting a heavily bleeding gash along it as she barely avoided having her stomach slashed open. With her arm now useless, the death cultist smirked at the xeno witch, preparing to deliver they Emperor's Judgement to her.

She never even saw the Signing Spear returning to its masters hand, stabbing clean through the trained killer in an explosive gout of blood and visceria. Her eyes widdened, a scream leaving her for a fraction of a moment before she fell.

But now Macha had only one arm to fight with, her spear gripped loosely in one hand as she shakely stumbled back. There were to many left and she was drained. She could see now escape now.

Death had finally claimed her.

Resigning herself to her fate, Macha's shoulders slumped, the tip of her spear dropping to the wood beneath her as she closed her eyes. Seeing their prey finally give up the hunt, like a pack of wolves the Death Cultists circled her, preparing to lunge in for the kill.

Their only warning was a shadow falling over them. So focused were they on the kill, only one of them, the youngest, looked up. Only they saw the massive hand, like the vengeful fist of the Emperor himself, coming down at them. A cry left her lips, trying to warn her brothers and sisters.

It was to late.

Four of them were crushed under the massive palm, the table jumping beneath the others feet, sending all atop it tumbling. When all eyes looked up, they saw Shawn above them, his eyes burning with a vengeful fire as he struck out again, swiping two more aside to fall to the ground below with shattered bones.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!?!"

Macha could only stare up in shock. She had used her sight. No one was going to save her. She had been about to die. And yet here he was, half of her attackers dead in a matter of moments, killed with casual ease.

Those Death Cultists remaining showed no fear at this new foe. They were servants of the Emperor. The pure would triumph. Some still trying to complete their mission while others tried to take down the giant that had denied them. Blessed blades stabbed into his hand, only for them to be wretched away from their owners grip as he grabbed many in a single sweep of his hand, snarling at them. Still they fought, stabbing at him again and again, even as they were crushed.

Within moments the fight was over. Dead and broken bodies of the Death Cultist's lay everywhere. Only Macha was left standing.

Shaking, both from blood loss and shock, the Eldar, usually so cool, so in control, looked up at the mon'keigh that had saved her, leaning heavily on her staff. "How ... How did you ..."

Shawn scowled down at the tiny Farseer, shaking his head. "I could hear you screaming all the way through the walls. Not like I could sleep with THAT ringing in my ears."

When the human scooped her up, carrying her off to be tended to by the crude apothecaries of those Space Marines and Guardsman that had followed him in curiosity when he rushed down the hall, Macha was to tired to think of what the human said.

It would only be later that she realized it.

Only later would she realize ... she had never called out during the fight.

(**)

The Death Cultist knelt in the shadows, her blade laid before her, tears of shame running down her cheeks as she recounted her failure to a true servant of they Emperor, her master, the one who had made her and her brothers and sisters even more faithful in service to Him on Terra.

He let her suffering drag on, let her shame seep into every fiber of her being, and he did nothing to dissuade or comfort her. She had failed. Worse, she almost exposed them. She should have died with the rest of them. But this one ... this one thought it was her "duty" to inform him. Coward.

When he spoke, his words echoed through the darkness, bouncing back at her again and again. "You have failed they Emperor."

Tears flowed anew from killer, little more then a girl really, who knew nothing but what she had been told by men and women who trained her from birth in the art of death, all for a religious ideal. In many ways, it was almost pityful. But she would never see this. Neither would he. To him, she was a tool. Nothing more.

"There is only one way to ammend for such failure."

The girl said nothing, nodding her head as she gripped the sword once more. There was only one way. May the Emperor find the mercy to take her by his side.

Turning the blade towards herself, she stabbed it into her own body. When she fell upon the blade, she was still alive. Her death was slow, painful as her life's blood pooled out around her.

That man did not even bat an eye.

It was only when the life was finally gone from her that one of the other occupants of the room moved, a snap of flame appearing in the darkness, revealing a face lined with scars and tattoo's as it was pressed to an ilo-stick between his lips before looking to the man they assassian had killed herself for.

"I told you those zealots couldn't do the job. You should have let me handle it."

Those lifeless eyes turned to the smoker. Even after so many years, those eyes still chilled the man's blood, his voice still put some steel in his spine.

"They were expendable anyways. The witch was a danger, but a minor one. We proceed as planned."

"You sure that's wise? The witch may be on to us now. And she has that giant, maybe even the others-"

"They will serve they Emperor or die. We will not fail in our mission."

The smoker frowned, but said nothing, watching as his Master turned his gaze to the other occupant of the room. "After all this time, all this preperation ... its almost over."

The woman standing in the shadows snarled, struggling against the binds that bound her, the heavy leather and adamantium straps binding her arms behind her, the tattoo's and brands on her fair skin once more never seeming to quite come into focus. The Master only smirked as she struggled more.

"Isn't that right Venostaraza?"

The woman stiffened, a snarl showing teeth more akin to fangs filling her mouth, her eyes glowing a burning red as the faint scent of brimstone filled the air.

"Yes ... Master ...."

When the Master leaned back, still hidden in shadow, the faint light still caught his chest, glinting off the rosette hanging from his neck.

And the stylized I upon it.

"Soon ... they Imperium will be safe." Inquisitor Toreth said, to no one but himself, gazing into the darkness. "Soon ... everything will be set right ..."

((**))

I appologize again for the delay. Just ... life has not been good lately. Hopefully things are reaching a point though when I can be a bit more functional again.


	7. Realization

To everyone asking if I have plans to "resupply" the armies: Yes, there is a method in my head to recoup losses they'll be suffering at some point. As of now however, they're stuck with what they have. As for "fraternization" between the Sister's and Guardsmen .... no comment yet. -sly smirk-

Benarikun: Honestly, reluctent to bring in a Titan. Even mini sized, one would most certainly deceimate the house in a fight. And the orks would NEVER be able to resist trying to loot it. A Naval warship however ... its something I'll consider. Perhaps a grounded one or disabled somehow that could serve as a base for its crew and perhaps the Guard. At the moment, I don't think I'll add it just yet. Perhaps in Act II.

Blueberry Blaster: Yeah, I do plan to include some moments of "lols" in between grimdarkness .... mostly with the Orks. And maybe the Tau. Commie Weebos ... But I always sort of intended funny/grimdark/funny/grimdark when I was imagining this. -cackles at his plans-

Anony: I agree with you on including the others. In particular I'd like to do more with the Tau and Mechanicus, but they're a pretty rough mindset to get into for me. But I may be able to cook up a "Tau moment" in this chapter.

Soren: Yeah, my spelling mistakes are common. Sorry about that. Someday I'll get fucking Word to work. As for they Inquisition ... your pretty right. Even the "good Inquisitors" are pretty dickish. Lets face it, no matter how much its "For the greater good", you have to be pretty dickish to be able to order an Exterminatus if need be. This Inquisitor ... without giving to much away, I will say this. He is a man utterly dedicated to they Imperium and humanity. He will do ANYTHING to make it safe. But to do so, he will do horrible, horrible things.

Icee: ... Possibly to the first, hell no to the second. I am not taking care of fingernail sized baby Imperials, Tau, Kroot, Orks, or ANYTHING of that nature.

Blip-Chan: Right up until they knock on your door in the middle of a ritual with a heavy bolter and your last words are "Fuck me".

Brian: All I'll say about Shawn is he's got a major role to play in the coming days, both now and in Act II.

Timewatch: Depends on what type of Inquisitor you get. Witch Hunters tend to just kick in the door and spray the place with bullets. My boy ... lets just say he's not typical, even for Inquisitors.

**And a notice to all fellow writers: I am considering two new options for this story. One is splitting it into two. One a more lol focused story, perhaps focusing on a new character or the point of view of the minatures, the other the more serious one that I have going right now. A second thing I am considering is bringing in other characters, people who have also had these uninvited "guests" show up for them. If so, I'll need to talk to each of these writers, outline details of the plot, get what armies they have planned, etc. This will allow for guest writers, a meshing of various characters, and a spread of ideas.**

**Please note. If I do go this route, I only ask that there are no Necrons or Tyranids. Chaos ... still uncertain on that. If interested, please send a message to me via review, e-mail, message, or MSN, which is ark_**

As always, reviews and ideas are very welcome.

(**)

One mug of hot chocolate later, Shawn was sitting at the table nursing the warm mug, looking down at the people arguing atop it. While the idiots always fought, Macha was the first time one of their little .... skirmishes had felt planned to him. They had got her alone, ambushed her, tried to kill her ... and nearly suceeded. Sheer luck had kept her alive.

Now nursing a rather large compression bandage over her side, four black robed psykers she called "Warlocks" bodyguarding her, she sat cross legged near the mug in his hand, looking at the others on the table while revealing nothing of the pain she was obviously in. Either Eldar were tougher then Shrike had ever told him ... or she had one HELL of a poker face.

Speaking of Shrike, he was leaning back against the salt and pepper cozy, arms folded across his barrel chest of his, two of his fellow Space Marines, albeit in slightly more ornate and better maintained armor that he had come to recognize as Veterans, standing on either side of him, their massive bolters held across their chests at parade rest. Neither one of them had moved since Shrike has picked his spot, becoming statues for all intent and purposes.

Magos Callonus, the guy who was in charge of those Adeptus Mechanicus guys, looked particularly annoyed to be here. I had found him and about a dozen of the other little bastards pulling apart an eight year old computer I had been planning to throw out for months now and just never got around to doing. ... Good thing to, because aparently electronics were cocaine to these guys. He was also the only one of the leaders I told to be here that came with no bodyguard.

Stubbs was pacing back and forth like a caged lion at the zoo, shooting looks at one of the tau drones that constantly buzzed around the kitchen now like he wanted to take pot shots at it with that wrist mounted bolter of his, the chubby comissar with him looking ready to take it a step further and shoot the drone, the Tau, Macha, and pretty much everything not human in the room as well. Thankfully, the dozen guardsmen with him didn't quite seem to share that desire. While they looked nervous as hell being around so much stuff they considered "xeno", they also didn't look to eager to start blasting.

The final member of this little meeting was Teresa, the Canoness trying a sip of the hot chocolate I had given her (again, I was thankful my mom NEVER threw out anything, including my little sister's doll stuff) and judging from the huge grin on her face, loving it, taking another quick drink. I had some coffee brewing for the others in my dad's old coffee maker, but I couldn't stand the bitter taste of the stuff. Hence the hot chocolate for me and the Canoness.

Taking another sip, I sighed softly, slowly sitting the mug down and looking at Macha. "And your sure these guys were ... umm ..."

"Death Cultist's." Macha provided, placing a hand gingerly at her side. "And yes, I am certain. There was no mistaking their skill or their origin." Her eyes instantly darted to Stubbs, who bristled angrily, reaching for his holstered laspistol.

"And I have told you already witch, I have no Death Cultists in my forces, nor would I want those fanatics!"

"Judging from their garments, weapon style, along with body and genotype, I would estimate with a 96.42% percent probability that they are members of the Redemptionist sect of the Calixis Sector, within the Segmentum Obscurus." Callonus provided, those mechanical tentacles of his waving behind him and twitching in the air, his tone a complete monotone. "Of the known forces present on Serenity, only the Lacusta 95th Windriders, Mortressa 9th Scythewind Regiment, Synford 54th Steel Wolf Battalion, 3rd and 8th company of the Emperor's Shield and 5th of the Storm Titan's Space Marines are the only units from that region."

Shrike shook his head, his voice a deep growl from beneath his helmet. "Well I can assure you these Death Cultist's didn't come from a Space Marine chapter. We would have no use for them." His head inclined to Teresa. "No offence Canoness."

Teresa smiled, though if it was to assure the Space Marine captain or because she REALLY like that hot chocolate, I couldn't tell. "None taken Captain. The Space Marines give praise to the Emperor just as we do."

Hearing the timer go off on the coffee machine, I got up to get it, taking the full pot from it and being careful to pour them into the miniature cups. "Cream? Sugar? Anyone?"

I swear to god, that comissar of Stubbs ... Kren I think it was, nearly jumped out of his coat at the mention of coffee, his cap nearly falling off as he snapped his head over to me. "Cream, two sugar if you would please."

Stubbs shot a look at the man, who at least had the good decency to blush, but he never took his eyes off me as I got the cream for him, pouring a bit into a cup as one of the Tau Crisis suits held up the sugar bowl for me. Taking one, I broke it down carefully into what I assumed would be they equivelent to two cubes of sugar for the guy, nodding at the suit. "Thanks."

I picked up the cups, carrying them back to the table and barely managed to sit them down before Kren had one in his paws, taking a long drink and sighing quite contently. Reaching up to rub his forehead, teeth grit at the unseemly display of his subordinate, Stubbs got one for himself, nursing it as his bodyguard looked on enviously and Shrike got one in what I was certain was just an attempt to be polite. Callonus didn't even bother doing that, just staring off into space, ignoring the cup.

Sitting down, I frown faintly, picking up my mug again. "And who are they? I haven't seen them running around."

Stubbs scowled, tanking a long drink of his coffee before speaking. "They were other units assigned with us to our mission on Serenity. All told, there were around a hundred guard regiments, maybe fifteen or so elements from different Space Marine chapters, five or so of the holy Sister's Orders, and I'd bet the Cadian Gate a couple Inquisitor's snooping around. Not to mention the naval element."

My eyes nearly popped out at the numbers he had given me, trying to picture them in my head. "That ... that would have been millions of men!?"

"Fifty Nine Million, Three Hundred and Fourty Two Thousand, Nine Hundred and Sixteen enlisted in the various branches of the force, not including civilian personel, hanger-ons, and servitor's." Callonus again provided, looking towards me.

I slowly fell back into the seat, staring off into space, trying to just ... PICTURE that sort of force. That was an entire nation, maybe even a continent worth of people! All armed, all for ONE campaign? It ... it was insane!

"But ... what happened to them all? I mean ... besides you guys, no one else is here."

"Xeno, along with Heretic resistance was stronger then anticipated. The arrival of the Ork forces was most unexpected. Estimated losses over the course of the campaign are 40%."

Fourty ... fourty precent? That ... that was at least twenty MILLION soldiers!? Callonus continued, either not noticing or dismissing my distress.

"Beyond these losses, the span of the warp anomaly that enveloped us leading to our journey here is unknown. Post analysis of they anomaly has been inconclusive."

"What ... what the hell were you all doing there? What could make you send THAT many soldiers off to die?"

Shrike frowned, shaking his head. "It is the duty of all citizens of they Imperium to fight and die in the glory of they Emperor."

Shaking my head, I looked down at the mug in my hands, noticing my hands were shaking. Scowling, I clenched them tighter to the mug to still them, shaking my head. "Seems to me you would serve him better by living."

I noticed all Imperial eyes on me, realizing how my words must sound to them. They must think me a coward now. I was no coward. I just ... that many lives ... and they didn't see anything wrong with it!? "... And ... you didn't answer my question ..."

"........" Most surprising of all, it was Kren, the Commissar who spoke. "We had recived reports of Traitor Legions acting on the planet for reasons unknown. It was an agri world with little to no strategic value, all worlds it provided to also fed by at least two other worlds in the sector. However, Segmentum Command decided to allow ANY worlds to be lost in that region was unnacceptable. A first task force was set and repelled. Along with Chaos forces, a major Ork force was also sighted. Unable to establish a beach head, it was decided a major offensive was needed. All avaliable forces within or near the region were called up and a second assault launched. A beachhead was established and an assault was begun."

"So ... you guys were basically fighting over a world nobody gave to much of a damn about?"

Shrike snorted. "To lose a single world to the forces of the Xeno or the Heretic is unacceptable. We will fight them at every turn as needed."

"... Yeah, we had a similar plan during the Cold War. It didn't work out to well for us."

Macha tapped her spear against the table to cut off Shrike's retort, taking a sip of her cup and making a face at the bitter taste, pushing it away and watching with amusement as Kren instantly snapped it up. Apparently Eldar didn't like coffee either. "Eldar forces were there for similar reasons. We sensed a ritual taking place on the world, a dangerous rite that threatened the webway, the craftworlds, they entire Eldar race. Biel-Tan was only one of the Craftworld's to send its warriors. Our Warp Spiders and Rangers have tried to find others, but so far we have had no luck."

Frowning, I brought my mug up to my lips again. "Okay, I know those Ranger guys are the ones with the huge rifles, but what the hell is a Warp Spider?"

I had just started to take a sip when I heard a loud .... POPPING nose, like someone just popped a bubble gum bubble right next to my ear. Now, weird noises coming out of nowhere I've gotten use to. I mean, you ever heard a Kroot mating call? Sounds like someone strangling a goat. Strange smells have also gotten normal for me. The entire guest bedroom is a strange smell now thanks to the Orks, not to mention the Sister's pyromania (though that thankfully got under control after the third day.).

No, it was the sensation of something .... WRIGGLING around in my MOUTH that got my attention. Eyes bugging out, I instantly spit it out onto the table, gagging as a little body went skidding across the wood to thunk into the pepper shaker and knock it over with a thud, spreading pepper everywhere and triggering a sneezing fit amongst the guardsmen standing to close, one sneezing so hard he ended up pulling the trigger and shooting one of Shrike's bodyguards.

RIGHT in the ass.

Jumping, curses coming out in a boom through his helmet, he turned and raised his bolter to put a hole through the guardsmen's head ... who promplty wet himself, but could he really be blaimed for that? Only Shrike slapping his bolter aside kept him from shooting the poor fellow.

Unfortunatly, it didn't stop him from shooting, the shot hitting the cup of coffee right in Krel's hand and blowing steaming hot coffee all over himself. I couldn't tell if he was angrier over getting burned or the fact that his coffee got spilled, but now HE was going for his pistol.

"ENOUGH!" Macha's yell echoed far louder then her little young's should have allowed, but I felt my ears ringing from it, everyone freezing. ... And it was quite a sight really. Me with my tounge out mid gag, Guardsmen mid bolting for cover, Shrike and the ass shot Space Marine mid argument ... and Krel looking ready to pop a blood vessel.

All eyes turned to the Farseer, who looked towards the little figure slowly getting up. "To answer your question, that is a Warp Spider."

Looking down at the Eldar I now knew to be a warp spider, I scowled, feeling myself gag again. "And why was it in my hot chocolate damnit!? I nearly choked on the little bastard!"

"It certainly was not intended Mon-keigh."

Narrowing my eyes, I waved my fist dangerously at the pint sized teleporter. "Watch your attitude or I'll throw you in the food processor!"

The Warp Spider looked ready to jump at me no matter how big I was when Macha said something to him in their own language, the tones vaguely musical in quality. The Warp Spider tensed, but backed down, glaring at me for a moment before replying back. When he finished, Macha looked up at me once more.

"They have so far been unable to accurately teleport since they have arrived here. It has made our scouting efforts difficult. He appolgizes for startling you."

The Warp Spider bristled at that, making it clear he certainly HADN'T appologized, but he kept his mouth firmly shut and frankly I didn't want to think about it. Looking at the mug in my hand, I made a face and shoved it away, watching as it was instantly rushed off by two of the Crisis suits and some drones to be cleaned. At least with the Tau here I never had to do dishes anymore. One bright spot if you think about it.

"So you said those ... Chaos guys were up to some ritual?"

Macha nodded. "Yes. Its purpose was beyond even our divinations. But during the cusp of the ceremony, something .... happened. We are unsure what. But the ritual was interrupted and went out of control. It is how we ended up here."

A thought accorded to me, one I had been trying to ignore since day one with those guys. "Do we ... have to worry about them trying again?"

Macha's head shook. "No. The Warp ... it is strange here, distant, as if it is being blocked out. We cannot interact with it as we normally could. While we can still enact some rituals or spells, performing a massive ritual such as what the Thousand Sons and other forces of Chaos attempted is beyond us without a large source of Warp Energy."

"So ... we're safe?"

"For now. As long as an eye can be kept on them."

It was at that moment a whole contingent of Orks ran in, yelling "BOSS, BOSS!" at the top of their lungs. Reaching up to rub my forehead, I sighed in annoyance, trying to block it out. What had they done this time? Lit the bed on fire? Blown out a wall? Smashed a hole in the door?

"What is it now?"

"Boss, its dem blue spikey boyz! Deyz gone!"

After what I had just been talking about with Macha and the others, THAT caught my attention. "What?!"

Getting up, I bolted from the kitchen down the hall, nearly tripping and falling flat on my face over a parked Baneblade with a bunch of guardsmen and Tech Priest's poking around it. Skidding around it, I threw open the door to the guest bedroom, completly ignoring the Orks as I threw open the closet door, looking inside.

They weren't just gone. They had just up and vanished off the face off the earth. No armor, no casings, nothing of the detrius that followed all the other armies. The floor was completly clear, pristine, like they had never even been there. Rounding on the Orks, I saw them actually shrink back under my glare. Apparently I looked angry enough right now to scare an Ork. And I WAS. "Where are they!?"

The Orks started talking all at once, yelling over eachother, trying to tell me a hundred different stories. Scowling growing, I kicked a few of them, sending them flying clear across the room. "ONE AT A TIME!"

Two orks were shoved forward by their "buddies", shriveling under my glare as they looked for ways to bolt. "Uh ... Boss, me and Stompa, we ... we waz gonna go loot dem Chaos Boyz ... since ya don't like dem none. But when wez went into da lil room, dey waz all gone! Dey just poofed, like dem sneaky lil elfies! We didn't let dem out, honest!"

Gone!? How did an entire army just ... dissaper!? Through a room full of freaking Orks no less!?!

"We cannot allow them to roam free."

Looking down, I was shocked to see Macha and the others had followed me in, the orks even more surprisingly letting them through. I think they were to afraid of what I would do right now to try and get into "a good scrap" with them.

"The touch of the Warp is weak here, but not non-existant. If they are allowed to roam free ..."

Gritting my teeth, I nodded my head. "Yeah. We can't let them just run loose."

Compsing myself, I stood to my full height, looking at all the orks and the various commanders in the room. "Check every damn nook and cranny of this place! Find those little bastards and find them now!"

"OY, BOSS! Can we waaaagh with deze boyz!?"

Gritting my teeth, I narrowed my eyes, nodding my head decisevly. I was done trying to play nice with these guys. I didn't know what they did, what they might do. I didn't care. If they could cause enough damage to bring this many damn armies out to fight them, I wasn't letting them run loose in my house.

"Waaagh to your hearts content boys! Just find them!"

A great cry of "!!!!" went up amongst the Orks as they swarmed out in a green tide, they Imperial's looking quite pleased as they ran off to inform their own forces. It may not be exactly what they wanted, but at least now they got to kill heretics. Only Macha seemed subdued, frowning deeply as I began to head to the door, reaching for my bat. "Shawn!"

Stopping, I turned my head to look at her, watching as she moved towards me. For a moment, I thought there was a flicker of ... fear in her eyes. "I ... I cannot see what will happen. Events are happening all around us and I can see no path we should follow ..."

Frowning, I imagined how she must have lived, able to see the future, see what outcomes were laid out for her, able to pick the best one. She had always known what was coming. Now ... now that certainty was gone ... and it scared her. Nodding my head, I rested my bat on my shoulder. "Then we just pick one and follow it to the end ... and beat down anything that gets in our way."


	8. Omake: Christmas Special

"I still don't understand Mon'Keigh. Explain it to me again."

Sighing softly, Shawn sat down the box he had just hauled out of the garage, reaching up to rub his eyes for a moment. "Macha, I really don't know how many different ways I can explain it to you."

Frowning indignantly, sitting on the coffee table with her legs folded beneath her, Macha folded her arms across her chest. "Well it does not fit what I know of your kind. Explain this .... "Christmas" again."

Sighing, taking the lid off the box of ornaments, Shawn knelt down, pulling out the glass and ceramic orbs of green, gold, red, blue, and a dozen other different colors, hanging them up on the artificial tree he had spent over an hour struggling to get down the ladder from the attic without breaking his neck and put together in the living room. Stubbs wasn't happy about having to move the little tank park he had set up in the corner where I put it, but after threatening to lock his baneblade's up again he agreed to sit in the corner "like a good boy".

Shawn was just glad he didn't hear the troops snickering about that behind his back when he stormed off.

Of course, Macha and the Guard weren't the only observer's he had. Pretty much every little army here had a few guys hanging around now, watching him. A few even tried to help out. Shawn had the Mechanicus checking the bulbs on the string of lights for me for any burned out ones ... which thankfully weren't many. They spent five minutes just CHANTING as they changed the damn things. The Marines had sent their assault troops up into the tree and were straightening the strings of light and garland he hung up there and the Tau had used their hovercraft to put the angel on top of the tree. He thought the Space Marines were trying to get back on his good side after shooting up the animatronic Santa and Reindeer set he had put in the hallway. Apparently they thought it was some "Giant servant of the Word Bearers and a Daemon".

"Its not really complicated. Its a religious day, celebrating the birth of the "Son of God" in one of our major religions."

Macha shook her head. "That I understand. The human's have a similar festival on the day of their Imperium's founding."

Teresa quickly chimed in from where Shawn had put a couple of his mom's old antique porcelian angels on an empty space on the bookshelf. Apparently she had taken a real shine to them and her and a handful of the sister's were cleaning them up. One of the sister's even had a needle and thread out and was sewing a tiny rip on one of the angel's gowns. Ever seen a chick in full battle armor, looking like she could beat an Ork in a fist fight, sewing? Its actually a pretty funny sight. "Saints Day. When we venerate the Emperor and his Saints for bringing humanity together. Though we have no trees. And there is of course the public executions of heretics."

Making a face, Shawn shook his head, hanging the ornaments up. "You live in such a cheerful time, don't you?"

Annoyed at the interuption, Macha waved her hand in agrivation. "Yes yes, that. But what I don't understand is that you told us you do not follow this religion-"

"Or any really." Shawn chimed in, not turning away from the tree.

"Yes yes. But if you do not follow it, why do you celebrate it?"

Shaking his head again, Shawn sighed faintly. "Couple reasons. My folks do for one. Sometimes you just go along to make your friends and family happy. But they know not to drag me off to church for Mass or some crap like that."

Teresa seemed a little annoyed at my glibness when it came to religion, but she WAS basically a nun. .... A nun with a flamethrower, but a nun none the less. But since Shawn wasn't talking about the Emperor or the Imperial Creed (And was an avatar of the Emperor), she seemed willing to let it pass. Moving on, he took the last strand of lights from the Mechanicus. "Beyond that, its more the camradre, the "peace one earth and goodwill amongst men" I try to believe in."

Macha snorted, shaking her head. "Goodwill? Amongst mon'keigh?"

Sighing, Shawn thought back to some of the stuff he had watched on the news eatting lunch before he got started decorating. ".... Yeah, I know. We're a fucked up species. But gotta think it can get better, right?"

Macha only snorted again, as did a few of the other races, but nobody said anything thankfully. It was the holiday's damnit. I wasn't letting my mood get ruined. "And you spend this time with your family, yes? Speaking of which, where are they?"

Stopping as he hung the last few ornaments, Shawn frowned faintly, thinking. That was a good question. Where WERE they?"

**Elsewhere**

**"WE'RE SORRY, BUT DUE TO POOR WEATHER CONDITIONS, ALL FLIGHTS ARE CURRENTLY CANCELLED."**

Trapped in a snow clogged airport in the middle of nowhere, a man stood with his wife and daughter, a vein throbbing in his temple as he looked out at feet of snow covering the ground ... and still falling.

"-"

**Flashback**

The ornament in Shawn's hand suddenly shattered in a splinter of glass shards, Shawn cursing as he jumped back and clutched his hand. "WHO THE FUCK DID THAT!?"

Eyes bugging out, an Ork lurking in the hall made a break for it back to the room Shawn had given to them, booking it like the Fleshhound's of Khorne were nipping at his heels.

Cursing, Shawn shook his hand free of the colored glass, a Chimera with a dozer blade from the Imperial Guard already rolling up to push it into a waiting dustpan. "I'm going to end up with an anurism from you guys, I swear it ...."

Shaking her head, Macha looked over at the Sister's, watching Teresa and the other sister's going about their business, seeming to be enjoying themselves greatly with the work. Infact, ALL of the humans were. Even the Tau seemed to find some enjoyment in the simple act of decorating the tree. Drumming her fingers on the shaft of her spear, she shook her head. "Mon'keigh are such confusing creatures ...."

Snorting, Shawn closed up the box, rolling his neck and stepping back a bit to take in the tree, nodding at his handywork. "Don't I know it. But they say complexity adds to a masterpiece, don't you think?"

Scowling at Shawn's back, Macha shook her head. How typical of Mon'keigh, thinking themself some kind of masterpiece species. Yet still ...

So lost was Macha in her thoughts, she didn't even realize the Ranger had appeared behind her until she felt the tap on her shoulder, making her nearly jump out of her skin as she yelped and spun her Singing Spear. The Ranger's eyes nearly bugged out as he jumped back, sweating visibly as he gulped, Macha looking at him with a burning glare. "Do not sneak up on me like that!"

Swallowing, the Ranger quickly held up his hands to placate her. But he couldn't help but cock an eyebrow at the strange flush that colored the Farseer's cheeks. "Forgive me Farseer, but ... you asked to be informed when we were gathered."

For a moment, Macha just looked at the Ranger, not quite understanding ... until she remembered what Shawn had told them. He wanted all the armies together tonight in the dining room. Frowning, she slowly stood up, realizing for the first time that the Guard, Shawn, and other Imperials had already left. Why had she not noticed?

"Very well. We best not keep the Mon'keigh waiting."

((**))

Shawn leaned against the wall, looking out at the gathering of armies in his dining room. He had picked up a few necessary Christmas treats and made the rest himself. He was determined to show these guys what Christmas meant and have at least ONE day free of fighting. So far at least, it was going well.

The Eldar had been convinced, after much cajooling and prodding, to show some examples of Eldar song, the Bonesinger's playing their beautiful, haunting melodies for the gathered armies as the Howling Banshee's showed off their often lethal grace in elegant dance. The Imperial Guard watched with rapt fascination, even the Comissar's silent at the grace of the Eldar. Even a few Space Marines and Sisters were watching, though Shawn would swear there was an undercurrent of ... jealousy amongst the Sisters at the attention the female Eldar were getting.

Those Guardsmen that hadn't gotten been drawn in by the music and dance were currently having a drinking contest with the Tau over eggnog. And judging from the fact that there were about twelve Tau passed out around the bowl, the Guardsmen were winning.

The fact that there wasn't even any alcohol in that batch told Shawn the Tau also couldn't hold a drink worth SHIT.

Mechanicus and a few Earth Caste Tau were gathered around a handful of their Crisis suits, talking about specs and such with the advanced machines. The Mechanicus seemed eager to learn as much as they could about the things ... and the Earth Caste looked like they were just glad someone was talking to them.

The Sister's were sampling the food Shawn had laid out. Teresa in particular seemed to LOVE the sugar cookies he had picked up. Apparently she had quite a sweet tooth. A few of the Raven Guard were helping out with that, using their chainblades to cut the food into more managable sizes for everyone. A bit overkill, but hey, they looked happy to be doing something.

The only ones Shawn hadn't invited were the Orks. After he had taken some food from the spread to their room, he'd barricaded the door and never looked back. The Orks were a simple lot, not evil so much as stupid, but there was no WAY he was going to have them at a party. This many armies, they'd have a war going in two minutes.

All in all, things were going a lot better then he had allowed himself to imagine. They were getting along, they were peaceful, and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. Maybe things would work out after all.

"OY! DOSE MY SHINIES YA GROX LOVIN GIT!"

....... Well fuck.

All the other armies stopped at the yell, turning and looking towards the hallway and living room. Sighing, Shawn removed himself from the wall, walking towards the sound. "Be right back."

In the living room, the orks had lashed crude robes around some of the boxes, trying to drag them off with buggies, tanks, and sheer muscle. It wasn't working to well. Surprisingly, it didn't look like the whole ork army ... or even one of the clans. I guessed about thirty orks and a handful of vehicles. For the Orks, who never went ANYWHERE without enough guys to overwhelm a small town, it was a pretty pathetic number.

Standing on the back of one of their ork "trukks", hammering a power claw bigger then some orks on the floorboard and yelling at the other orks was one he THOUGHT he got rid of, that Warboss from the first day. Seeing eachother at the same time, they both pointed at eachother, barking out the same thing.

"YOU!"

Blinking, the two "titans" stared at eachother for a few long minutes before Shawn broke the silence. "Didn't I squash you?"

"Oy! Don't ya know nothin!? I'm Gorgutz 'Eadhunter! I always got mah tunnels dug ya git!"

".... What tunnels?"

"..... Shut it ya grox lova!"

Sighing, Shawn slapped a palm over his face, counting to ten. "... What the hell are you doin?"

"You took mah boys, so I'm takin ur shinies!"

As if to emphasize his point, the other orks tried hauling off with the presents again. Scowling, Shawn turned and walked out into the hallway, hearing Gorgutz call after him. "That's right, run ya git! I'm da biggest and da baddest ork around!"

Opening up the hall closest, he shoved aside some coats and jackets to get at his dad's golf bag, pulling out clubs one by one before settling on the nine iron, testing the weight in his hands. Heading back into the living room, he just walked up and grabbed Gorgutz off the back of the "trukk", listening to him roar and curse as he carried him outside.

Dropping him onto the porch, the Warboss quickly turned around, howling bloody murder at me and raising his arm mounted twin shoota's ... right in time to see Shawn swinging the nine iron.

"Oh zog it ..."

Cracking into the Ork, Shawn watched him go FLYING, screaming "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGHHHHHH!!!!!!" as he disapered into the distance.

"... Damn. Orks are surprisingly aerodynamic."

Turning back inside, resting the nine iron on his shoulder, Shawn shut the door behind him, looking into the living room to see those other orks already gone, probably running off to hide with the others. Shaking his head, he sighed in annoyance, grabbing a few small packages before heading back to the party.

Macha looked up when she saw him drop a present down on the table next to her, blinking for a moment. "What's this Mon'keigh?"

Not answering, he whistled to grab everyone's attention, sitting the packages down on the table. "Well, the tradition is to give gifts on Christmas. But since their are so many of you, your all going to have to share your stuff." Nodding to the gift he had laid infront of Macha, he tapped it with one finger. "This one is for the Eldar. Open her up."

Frowning, Macha and a few of the other Eldar went to work peeling off the paper as Shawn handed out the other gifts, watching as the armies set to work tearing off the paper, smiling faintly at it.

Looking down at the CD case before her, Macha frowned softly, studying the writing upon it. "What is this?"

A smirk tugged at Shawn's lips. "A CD of traditional eastern music. Its remarkebly similar to your own music."

Macha doubted greatly that mere humans could create music with the grace and beauty of the Eldar, but it was a kind sentiment. "... Thank you human."

The others shared similar reactions, to varying degree's. For example, the Tau were confused about the Gundam model Shawn had bought them from a local hobby store, but seemed eager to see if they could learn anything from the design. The Space Marines got into a rather heated discussion about the character on the cover of the Judge Dredd DVD he had picked up for them, unable to agree if he was an "Arbitus" or not. Shawn finally got them to calm down by telling them he would watch it with them later and THEN they could decide.

The others however seemed quite thrilled. The Sister's were each trying to get some of the large box of chocolate he got for them, the Mechanicus were about to come to blows over who got first crack at the X Box 360 (used mind you) that he scrounged up for them at the local Gamestop, and the Guard ... well, the Guard were openly weeping at the bottle of Jack Daniels he knew they would enjoy.

"Merry Christmas guys."

(**)

The next morning, Macha awoke with a groan, reaching up and rubbing her eyes, trying to remember last night. The last thing she remembered was finally having some of that strange "eggnog" beverage the Guardsmen kept drinking. She remembered having a few and after that .... not much.

Sitting up slowly, he yawned again, stretching out, hitting something hard and unyielding. Had her bed shrunk? Cracking open her eyes, she looked down ... and froze.

To her left was a Guardsmen, snoring softly with an arm thrown over his eyes. To her right .... to her right was Shrike, still wearing his helmet ... and nothing else.

And her robes had disapered.

Sitting there, Macha began trembling, eyes darting from one form to the other. And slowly, warp energy began to crackle around her hands.

(**)

Standing out on the porch, looking at the fresh fallen snow, Shawn smiled to himself, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. A real white Christmas. The world was quiet, pure, at peace, promising to be a beautiful Christmas morning.

Right up until a guardsmen came flying through the window, screaming and flalling as he crashed face first into a snow drift. And there were more come through the busted pane (small though the crack was).

Sighing, the moment ruined, Shawn downed the last of his hot chocolate before fetching the poor Guardsmen (who also seemed to have no pants), and went back inside, muttering to himself as he closed the door.

"Peace on earth. What a load of bull."

(**)

From all of us at Mini Hammer, we wish you a merry Christmas, a happy New Year, and a generally good Holiday Season. The next chapter should be done and ready by mid January and may very well be one of my most ambitious chapters to date. Review's feed the beast that powers my writing.


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